Kingdom Come: The Ashes of Paradise
by J. H. Fee
Summary: Chapter 9 is up! Rebecca and Carlos decide to take something with them when they leave Insbruk...but at what cost? ...read and review!
1. In Which it Begins

_Author's Note: This takes place before Resident Evil 4. Nothing references in that game will come into play here. I started the story long before RE4 came out, so that's just the way it's going to stay. _

Kingdom Come

Prologue Part 1: Wheels within Wheels

July 4 - 9:30PM

Ada Wong was angry. Matter of fact, she was far beyond angry, to an emotionless pit of anger and fear and hatred, so far down she couldn't even see the light anymore.

But she could see the _target_.

Six shots. Seven. Eight. Click.

"Damn it."

With a growl, the Asian woman flopped back onto the bench in the targeting range, her faintly accented voice echoing around the empty room. She ejected the clip of her pistol, letting it clatter to the floor, and glanced over at the clock as she pulled a second clip from her bag. _Jesus. Nine thirty._

She'd been in here for four hours.

She was probably one of the last people _in_ the building by now. Course, the Exec's practically lived on the upper floors, but that wasn't her concern. She stayed down here, in the basement of the Umbrella Corporations Headquarters in Paris, France.

The proverbial _Bowels of Hell._

She'd been idling here since her escape and eventual return from Raccoon city, and she spent every day in the shooting gallery, or the gym, or the pool, or one of a variety of other activities she used to ensure that she didn't _think_ about Raccoon City.

Or Leon.

She could almost here his voice; in that sewer under the police station_…"Look Ada, it's my job to look after you. Besides, we don't stand a chance of getting out of here alive if we don't work together. But you lied to me, didn't you Ada. Like the rat you were. Lied to my _face_ to get your stupid virus." _Of course, he hadn't said that, but…it was implied. Always implied…

"Damn it, get out of my head…" She pushed back to her feet, slapping the next clip into the pistol and rotating back towards the target. Bang!

Bull's-eye.

She stopped firing, her dark eyes staring at that perfectly round hole in the middle of the target's forehead. Well. She could always have done _that._ She had done it before, after all. The moment she'd seen him in the garage, just shot him in the back of the head. No problem. No questioning orders. Nothing.

"And why didn't I?" She sat back down again, cradling the pistol in her lap like a child, the faint sent of gunpowder floating up to her nose.

"Why didn't you what?"

She jerked her head up, staring over towards the door and the young man who was leaning against the wall now. He couldn't have been more then twenty-five, dressed in a simple brown business suit, with brown hair and a self-satisfied smirk. Richard Vimes, one of the semi-important toadies the executives had taken a liking to this week.

_You're getting _slow_, Wong. Letting someone sneak up on you like that._

"What do you want, Vimes?" Ignoring his question, she pushed to her feet and injected the almost-full clip, setting it on the counter nearby and beginning to disassemble the pistol for cleaning.

"Why Ada, whatever makes you think I _want _something? Can't I simply come downstairs to say hello to my favorite has-been assassin? And please, call me Richard." His footsteps echoed through the room as he walked over towards her and leaned against the wall next to her, his arms crossed across his chest.

"Bullshit, Vimes. Of _course_ you want something. No one comes down here this late at night unless they want something from me. And _you've_ never been down here in your entire life." She picked up the barrel of the pistol and waved it him absently as she air-dried it. "Besides that, you told me two weeks ago to never call you by your first name, _and_ that you wouldn't sink so low as to talk to me." She just smirked and snapped the gun back together.

"Yes, well…things have _changed_ Ada. With the Noah's Ark project reaching completion, and with that idiot Arnold instituting his cleansweap agenda, whatever the hell it is… We all have to find allies where we can. Things are going to be _much_ different around here, I think. I just thought you would want in."

"In on _what_? Some crackpot scheme you whipped up to take over the company? Or _maybe _you have some new genetics idea you want to throw at the scientists. They always love that. Look at the tyrant project, after all." She slipped the clip back into the gun and turned to him, smiling faintly. "And you know Vimes, you should be careful what you say. Our _dear_ President Arnold does have the entire building monitored." She pointed a thin finger at the camera rotating back and forth in the corner.

The brown haired man paled visibly and glanced towards the camera for a moment, reaching up to adjust his tie quickly. "I doubt he has time to check all the tapes. Besides, we all know this camera just shows is an operative who hides down here all day and hasn't bothered to take a mission in almost two years. I don't think that is his regular viewing material, Ada."

"Whatever." She resisted the urge to just shoot him by sticking the pistol into the back of her belt. "Look, I'm busy. So just tell me what you want, or get the hell out of my face."

"Fine." His face grew serious and he turned towards the door with a shrug. "I'm going. But listen, you'd better get out of Paris for a while; somewhere in the country, maybe, like a…bomb shelter. All the hire-ups have been told to do so. Cleansweap isn't what any of us think."

"What do you mean? And why are you telling me this?" Ada frowned, cocking her head to the side. It didn't make any sense, no one in this company ever tried to help _her._

"Because, if I'm right, then you'll owe me a favor," he glanced back at her and grinned. "And if I'm not, well…no harm done." The door swished shut behind him.

"Yeah, right," the spy shook her head, tugging out her pistol and turning back towards the target. Like the president was stupid enough to do anything here in Paris. She'd be perfectly safe in the building.

One shot. Two.

Of course, there was the time when he'd let the hunters loose in the cafeteria…

Five. Six.

And the 'accidental' release in Raccoon…

Eight. Click.

"…Shit."

She scooped up her jacket and cell phone and was out the door, dialing as she went.

Prologue Part 2: Endgame

July 10 – 4:45 PM

Sirus Arnold, President of Umbrella Incorporated, the International pharmaceuticals company, tossed the small controller absently from one hand to the other as he looked out the large glass window of his office. He could see all of the eastern side of Paris from there, and normally, such a sight would have relaxed him immensely. But now, things were different. The controller returned to his left hand, and he looked down at the buttons on it. So much power, held in such a small machine…a remarkable little machine, really. Just flick the switch, and everything would change. "My own little hand of God." He mused softly, a faint smile tugging at the sides of his mouth.

"Pardon, sir?" The crisp, clear voice of Sirus's assistant, Thomas, echoed over to Arnold from somewhere near the doorway.

"Nothing, Thomas. Just…talking to myself." He spun his chair around, tossing the controller back into his right hand, and settled back. "How goes it?"

"Well, sir…" Thomas stepped forward slowly, dark brown eyes on the floor, hands clenching and unclenching at his stomach. He looked tired, with ragged, unwashed hair, pasty skin, and an off-color white coat…such a change from the ever-efficient Thomas Parmer that Sirus knew before. Well, such as it was, Sirus doubted he looked any better.

As Thomas gathered his thoughts, Arnold tossed the controller back and forth. "Well, sir…" Thomas repeated, frowning, taking a deep breath. "The intruders are three levels below us, at last check, sir. We believe they are attempting to get to the service elevator that leads up here. And we don't have a large number of guards left, anymore. Not after you sent so many to the Ark."

"Ah, yes…well, we expected this, didn't we Thomas? We planned for it, almost _hoped_ for it." He sighed, leaning back in that large chair of his, head against soft leather. "And so…" He tosses the controller back into his hand, and pushed the first switch. The first of four; there was no going back now. In a few moments, the halls outside would be swarming with the perfected 122 Slayer class Hunters, one last challenge to stop the intruders. His scientist assured him they were unstoppable -- history had a habit of proving such things wrong.

"So what do we do now, sir?" The younger man's eyes were wide, glued to that small plastic box; such an insignificant piece of machinery, to hold so much power.

"Now, Thomas, we wait. It shouldn't be long."

Chris Redfield dropped to his knees and rolled back behind the wall as a hail of gunfire tore through the air where he'd been. "Grenade!" He called out, and found one rolling up to him from somewhere behind. Good Old Barry, always had what you needed. He tucked the muzzle of his pistol under one arm, tugged out the pin, and threw the explosive around the corner, covering his ears as he turned back.

The explosion wasn't fantastic anymore. A year ago, throwing a live grenade at a squad of armed guards would have seemed like some kind of dream. Or nightmare, rather. But now, as the explosion subsided, Chris stood slowly, glancing over at his bearded friend, Barry Burton, who was crouching several feet away. Behind him was the rest of the volunteer Squad they'd assembled. A ragtag group, yes, but one Chris was proud of.

Lewis Dodge, a specialist in situational combat, such as hallways and office areas, was a quick eyed man with his hands gripped around the butts of two handguns. Shirley Black, explosives expert, was slumped against a wall with her backpack in her lap, handing Barry another grenade. Roger Delento, rounding out the remaining members, was a crack shot, an infiltration expert, and someone Chris would want at his back. He was carrying a shoulder strap machine gun and six or seven clips.

After a quiet moment, spent reviewing the squad, Chris sighed. He'd come in here with a nine-man team, and he was down to five. He'd expected losses, of course. He wasn't sure any of them would make it out. Still…

"Okay folks, time to go. The elevator to the top floor will be just down this hall." He grinned at them, running a hand through dark brown hair, mated with blood and gore. It had been a hard fight…but they were almost there.

"Sir? Ah…the security system reports that they are on the floor."

"Yes, well…inevitable, Thomas. That's what this is, after all. Inevitable." Sirus had put down the small box, on his knee, but now it returned to that worn hand of his. Perhaps not actually…Sirus had never worked a day in his life at manual labor. But figuratively, he'd slaved for the last fifteen years, to make this company work. And now these blind fools were going to take that all away from him. Had taken it all away from him. Well…not even he could help it.

Flick. The second switch was thrown, killing the elevators to this floor. They would be trapped.

Just like he seemed to be.

Sirus smiled.

"Chris, the elevator just blew!" Shirley's high-pitched, startled voice broke the tense silence a few moments after they had emerged from the double doors. Chris turned and saw that all the lights on the elevator panels had indeed gone out, and there was a bit of smoke coming through the door jam. "Well…shit." No going back that way. A wave of his hand brought silence again, and he nodded to Dodge, who moved forward with a nervous smile, pistols held out. The last floor was fairly straightforward, if Chris remembered the map right: several dead-end corridors, the last section of management, a small Security office, and then Sirus Arnold's office.

Where this would all end.

"Okay people. Fan out, triangle pattern, just like we planned." Well, to a point. They had assumed five or six of them would get through, so the team had practiced several different formations. With Chris on point, Barry on his left and Dodge on his right, and then the other two behind, they moved quickly down the halls.

The first turn came out onto an empty hallway, and they proceeded quickly. The second turn, however, was a double-ended hall coming out to a T-junction. Slowly, they edged out into the open area, Barry and Chris looking right, Dodge and Black looking left, and Delento covering them. Chris studied the long hallway, eyes searching. And then he froze.

Standing not thirty feet away, its froglike hump and long, clawed arms unmistakable, was a hunter. It was a creature perhaps two-thirds the height of a man, with warty, leather skin, small black eyes, and a huge mouthful of teeth. Flashes of the tunnels under the Mansion, fighting those fast, lethal killing machines in darkened passages and tiny hallways, came instantly to Chris's mind. This one was different though; bigger, for one thing, with longer claws, though he wasn't sure about that, and a bluish color instead of green.

The creature let out a scream, throwing its head back, waving those arms at its side, and leaped, extremely strong legs hurling it up towards the high ceiling, and towards Chris. And he didn't move. Dimly, he registered something coming up at his side, something reflective. There was an explosion of sound a foot or so from his ear, and the creature flew back, catching the edge of a wall, twirling, and collapsing in a heap.

"Jesus…I didn't think they'd release those things in their own headquarters. Hey, Chris, you okay?" Barry lowered the smoking barrel of his Colt Python, the pride of his collection, and turned towards his friend. "Chris?"

"Huh…Yeah, Sorry Barry. Just froze up for a second. Old memories, you know?" The bearded man nodded faintly, giving his companion a pat on the shoulder. The other three had turned at the sound of the scream and the shot, and they all moved down the hall, stopping by the body of the hunter.

A puddle of blood was forming beneath it, the sinewy arms and legs thrashing as the creature attempted to stand. The large, oozing hole from the hollow-point round was keeping the creature from doing so, though.

"It's different then the ones from the mansion." Barry said quietly, kicking at it with his boot. "Look, it's got these spikes on the arms, and it's definitely a foot or so bigger. Broader, too. Must be stronger. You know, give it a farther jump and a heavier hit."

"Makes sense." Chris frowned, glancing over at the three others. They were staring at the creature in stunned disbelief. He'd warned them; they all had. But it was understandable that they hadn't believed -- until now, anyway.

"Come on. There may be more of them out here, and we have a job to do." Chris lifted his gun and started moving, quickly, down to the hall, glancing around. He could see the door, a hundred or so yards away. "Move!" The rest followed.

They were halfway there when the screams started, identical to the one the hunter in the hall had made, echoing throughout the hallways. At a dead run, they crossed the last stretch, sliding to a stop by the door. "Open it." Chris told Shirley, who nodded, as the rest turned.

At the end of the hall they had just come out of were three of the hunters, standing quite still, watching the Squad. With soft thumps, two more of the creatures stepped into view, and turned.

"Shirley?" Chris said softly. He received a muffled response that might have been 'almost got it' but might not have been. Guns were leveled towards the creatures.

As if of one mind, the four opened fire, and the two end creatures went down, one with a magnum shot in its head, the other with a combination of rounds in its torso. The other three charged, one leaping, two running. And they were fast. Chris set his jaw as he fired, along with Dodge, at one of the running ones, while Barry blew his entire remaining five shots on the leaping one, winging it in the arm and sending it smashing back to the ground, screaming painfully.

As the bearded man tugged out a speedloader from his belt, another of the creatures went down, under the hail of fire from Chris and Dodge. One left, charging Delento. He'd emptied most of the clip of his machine gun into the bluish body, ruining the left arm, the side, and most of the lower torso, and yet it kept coming. As the others shifted their aim, it was perhaps five yards away, and it slowed, bending its knees to jump, letting out that carnal scream.

Bam! A heavy caliber pistol, less then the colt Barry carried, but not by much, fired a slug straight into the creatures eye, and it went tumbling, that scream cut off into a gurgle. The four spun, looking at the small woman behind them. With a smile, Shirley holstered her weapon. "The doors open, boys."

Delento smiled weakly, tugging out the clip of his gun and replacing it, as all the others were doing. And then he walked over to Shirley and kissed her. "You are beautiful, darlin!" That faint Georgian accent echoed through from the man, and the explosives expert blushed slightly.

"You can flirt later, people." Chris shook his head, but he couldn't help but smile. He'd wanted to do the same thing, really. Fighting a hunter at close range would have been impossible, even ignoring the fact that it would have probably taken one of their heads off in that jump.

"In we go." Glock raised, Chris shoved the door open.

Sirus leaned back in his chair as the door opened, the small controller resting lightly in his palm. A reassurance that he still held the upper hand kept him calm. They stepped in quickly, one by one, guns held ready, and Sirus absently went over what he knew of them. Chris Redfield was an Ex-air force pilot, Ex-Special Tactics and Rescue Squad member, an expert with handheld weapons, and the brother of Claire Redfield. Barry Burton, weapons specialist, father of two, and another of the Ex-STARS. The others were wildcards, it seemed. He had faces on file, but no names, and no real information. But that wouldn't matter. "Ah…Good afternoon. What can I do for you?" He smiled to Chris.

"Sirus Arnold, we're shutting you down. For good." The leader of the small group leveled his Glock at the President's head, who didn't even blink.

"I'd put that down, if I were you, Sir." A voice from the side called, as a section of the wall slide aside and Thomas stepped out, a machine gun much like Delento's held in his arms, pointed at Chris. A moment passed, and no one moved. Slowly, Chris lowered his gun, held tightly in white knuckles, down to his side.

"That's better." Arnold said quietly, and stood, pushing his chair back till it bumped against the window. "Well now, you've made it this far. All that work, all those lives, and I stop you here. It's the stuff of Greek Tragedy, really." He walked over to the window, turning to look out, holding that controller behind his back, toying faintly with the third switch.

"You all have been a thorn in this company's side for ages. And now you've brought us down. Without this central processor, all our labs will be unable to function. You've ruined us." He says this quietly, turning. "And I must admit I'm quite…upset about this." He paused, as though searching for the correct words. "But I must thank you, and give you this joyous bit of knowledge. You have helped me bring about the end. Of this company, of you, and of everything you can see. All of it, gone, in the flick of a switch." His hand came around, holding up the small box. "With this device, I shall end it. This shall break the seals on every capsule and storage center of the various viruses you worked so hard to stop. It shall release our creations, the monsters and the plagues, and they shall run rampant. This world shall become a paradise of death.." A faint smile, as he lifted the controller to eye level. "And you drove me to it."

He flicked the switch.

Resident Evil: Kingdom Come 

Part 1: The Ashes of Paradise

_"Do not go gently into that good night;_

_Rage! Rage against the dying of the light."_

_Dylan Thomas_

July 19 - 5:30 AM

Robert Venor, Assistant Manager to the Manager of the current Mayor of New York, stepped out of his apartment, picked up his newspaper, and tugged it open. He would read it as he always did, walking to the bus station at the corner. The second headline, under comments about recent turmoil in the Middle East, was a statistics moment, reporting a worldwide increase in brutal murders by two percent in the last three days. Probably because of teenagers, he figured. It had been a policy of the mayor to blame teenagers.

A moan, echoing from the alley several feet from the bus station brought Robert up short, turning to peer into the darkened passage, eyes wide. It was only five AM, and the angle of the sun made the entire area look shrouded in night. He rolled up his newspaper, sticking it under his arm, and took a few quick steps to the entrance, peering in. "Hello?"

Another moan floated out, sounding quite pained and…empty, and he could make out the dark form of someone sprawled on their side against the wall.

"Hey, you okay?" Footfalls echoed through the passage as he moved towards the figure, bending down. As he got closer, he saw that it was a man, bleeding from his side and his neck, and very much dead. "Jesus!" He stood up straight in surprise, taking a quick step backwards, bumping into the far wall.

And the body began to get up.

It stood slowly, blood oozing still from torn neck and slashed side, its eyes white and lifeless. Staring blankly, it took a lurching step forward, feet dragging on the ground. Robert turned then, broken from his trance, and let out a yell of fear and shock. What the hell? The dead don't get up, and they sure as blazes didn't walk! He'd gone three steps when his foot caught on a crack, and he went sprawling, still a good ten feet from the street.

A groan, from behind him, sent him scrambling back to his feet just as the walking corpse caught up, arms going around his neck, bloody, cold fingers grabbing at his coat, tangling, sending them both to the ground again.

For a moment, all was still, and then the creature pressed into Roberts back, as he tried to push it off. Cold, bitter air across his ear and cheek shocked him for a moment, and then spine-chilling pain as the creature bit deeply into the side of his neck.

He collapsed then, nerves going dead, and had time to register two things before he was gone. His face was lying in an expanding puddle of his own blood, and the creature that had caused this was a _zombie_.

July 19 – 8:30 AM

"Something isn't right."

Jason Richers glanced up from the pile of papers on his desk to his partner, who was sprawled out in his chair, boots on the desk, a folder in his hand. "Pardon?"

Mark O'Rielly was a tall, thin man, with scraggy red hair, a very slight mustache, and a passion for wearing vests and black combat boots, the current pair on the desk, which Jason could see had been in the mud recently.

Jason leaned back, eyeing his friend and partner, stretching his arms and tossing the pile of papers away for the moment. He was a bit more conservative then his companion; wearing the police issue blue pants, light blue shirt, and black tie.

"The paper claims there is a statistical rise of violent murders worldwide. Here, listen." The other man picked up his newspaper, folding down to the bottom of the first page, and began reading. "Reports yesterday indicate that violent crimes have increased in thirty seven major cities over the last three days. Also, preliminary reports indicate that missing person departments are swamped worldwide, as more and more claims of vanished friends and relatives are made." He tossed the paper back into the pile of them.

"It doesn't make sense, is what I'm saying. That's an impossible statistic." Mark leaned forward, tugging his feet of the desk, to make his point. "In order for an increase such as this to occur, it would take an event happening simultaneously, all over the world. Like, a massive terrorist strike, but no one has claimed anything." He leaned back, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Hold on a moment." Jason rifled through his papers, tugging out a number of files and setting them on the desk. "These are all reports for missing persons, the chief gave them to me a yesterday to look through. I hadn't gotten a chance to, yet. Maybe I should…" He was cut off as a chubby, greasy man with a cigarette dangling between two fingers came up to their desks.

"Boys, we've had another call, something about three people going missing all from the same apartment complex, over by Seventh and Vine. Go check it out." Jason set down his folders as the man talked.

"Sure Chief. I assume Barbara will fill us in on the radio?" He stood, grabbing up is coat, as his partner did the same.

"Yeah. Just get moving. The woman on the phone sounded like she was having a breakdown.."

"Okay, we'll hurry." Mark smiled reassuringly at the large man, who always seemed to worry about the people who called in. Probably why he had gotten to be in charge. Grabbing up the keys to their squad car, the two headed down to the garage.

July 18 – 9:30 PM

Anna Fernando, the daughter of a pair of Umbrella Incorporated Techs and the recent winner of the regional 4th grade spelling championship, was getting worried. She'd come home from school that day, one of seven students on her small school bus that traveled out to Insbruck, Arizona, and neither of her parents had been home. One of them was _always_ home. She'd tried some of the other houses, and gotten no answer when she knocked; even though Mrs. Williams next door wasn't suppose to leave her home and Mr. Barron had just had a heart attack.

So she was really worried. And maybe a little scared.

So, nine O'clock on that particularly nasty Tuesday found her huddled up on the couch, covered in blankets, clutching her old stuffed bear and watching cartoons. She'd heated a bowl of macaroni, just like Mama had shown her, but only eaten a little bit. They were both _always_ home by nine. This just didn't make any sense.

A particularly bad rerun of Scooby-Do got Anna to turn the TV off, curling up in the glow of the small lamp. She'd go to sleep, and when she woke up, everything would be fine. Her parents would be back home, and they'd lift her up and put her to bed with a kiss and a smile, and everything would be _okay_ again. Everything…would be…

When she awoke, it was to the blinking lights of the radio clock. Apparently there had been another power outage, because the clock was slowing blinking 12:00 over and over again. She curled her blankets around her and padded through the semi-darkness of her home, to see if maybe her parents had just left her on the couch for the night, and to get her Mickey mouse watch out of her drawer.

Her room was on the way, so she slipped in and picked up the little watch, turning on the glowing green light that had always cheered her up before. Eleven-thirty. They had to be home. She smiled and darted out of the hallway and down to her parent's room, pushing the door open and peering inside. "Mom, Dad! I'm sorry I fell asleep waiting for you, I didn't know when…"

Nothing. The room was empty.

Her mind registered this somewhere, and she curled her blanket tightly around herself again, tucking her watch into a pocket and padding back to the living room. Curling up on the couch, flicking the TV back on, and laying her head on Mr. Bear, she started to cry.

July 19 – 9:15 AM

Jason pulled the car out of the small police-parking garage and settled in for some heavy-duty waiting. The morning rush hour wasn't quite over, and he was sure it would take at least an hour to get to the call. A few moments later, when he stopped at the light, Mark came jogging up behind the car, carrying a large black bag, which he tucked into the backseat, then slipped into the passenger.

"What's with the bag?" Jason asked with a yawn as the light changed to green and he pulled out onto the boulevard.

"I told you before, something isn't _right." _His partner shook his head faintly, looking out the window. "I just have a bad feeling about this, buddy. Something's going down. Something big."

"Relax, you're just imagining things. There could be a perfectly legitimate reason for what is going on. Like your terrorist idea." Jason pulled the car out onto the expressway.

"I really hope you're right." Mark said as he leaned forward and tugged off the microphone for the radio. "Barbara, you there? This is car 33, won't you give us our wonderful orders?"

"Morning gentleman." The crisp, aloof voice of Barbara Wagner floated out of the dashboard, and Jason could almost picture her staring down her nose at the microphone and adjusting her glasses. "You two get the 'wonderful' job of looking for some missing tenants. One Mrs. Webber, a landlord over at 709 Vine, reported that four of her tenants are not answering their doors, and haven't been seen in days. You go and check it out, see if you can find anything, and then call me. Now that you're out, I have a few other things that need looking into."

"Roger that. We'll be there in twenty minutes, in case she calls again, over." Mark hung the microphone back on the radio and settled into his chair. "I hope this is as simple as it looks."

July 19 – 3:45 PM

Jo Berkton had never been this frightened before in her entire life. She'd just picked up her son Bobby from daycare, and they had been driving home along route 43 when they'd come across a jackknifed tractor-trailer, blocking the road. There was a Kentucky state trooper standing nearby, walking around as he looked over the wreckage. So far as she could tell it looked like the truck had hit the median, started to go over it, and then collapsed onto its side.

"Looks pretty bad." She had said absently to her five year old, who was trying to stand up in his seat to see. "I hope no one was hurt." She had gotten out of her car to ask the officer if he knew how long till the truck was moved, and he had turned around…

His eyes had been perfectly white, this cloudy, milky mess, like a cataract. He'd started lurching towards her, and she noticed at the same time that a bloody figure was crawling out of the cab of the overturned truck.

"Oh my God!" She'd let out a scream, running back to the car and leaping inside, rolling up the windows quickly. "Baby, come here." She'd unbuckled her son and tugged him into her lap, peering out at the approaching cop. He was stumbling along blindly, towards the car, his arms held out in front of him. Jo couldn't help but compare it to those cheesy horror movies she'd watched as a kid.

Her son had curled up in her lap obediently, and she'd shifted the car into drive, moving to the left to give herself room to make a U-turn. As she'd pulled around, another car, an old chevy pickup, had come rolling down the highway, towards them. She'd attempted to avoid it, but it had slammed into her side, sending them both spinning.

Behind the wheel, she'd seen, was a red-haired young woman in an office dress, her eyes blank and staring, slumped against the window. Forcing her bent door open and grabbing up her son, she'd taken off, for the trees. The cop was only a few feet away, and the woman in the other car was still trying to get out. So she had ran.

And now she was walking along the side of route 43, cradling Bobby in her arms, and watching the few cars go by. She'd only seen about fifteen since she had started moving, and of them, three had been pressed up against the median, cruising along at 50 or so and sending sparks everywhere. Another had been stopped in the middle of the road, just sitting. It had looked empty, and she'd run a mile from it before calming down, wondering where the driver had gone.

Some of the cars looked okay, moving normally. One man had actually waved to her, stopping, but she had said she was okay. She didn't know what was going on, and certainly didn't want to chance getting into a car with someone, not now. It would only take a couple hours to get to the closest town, anyway.

But what in heavens name was going _on_?

July 19 – 9:50 AM

The squad car pulled up outside 709 Vine and the two police officers climbed out, Mark tugging out his bag and putting it on his shoulder. Jason led the way, heading up the small set of stairs and through the front door, into a dusty, dark hallway with a single hanging light bulb, swinging slowly, in the center of the room.

"Hello? Mrs. Webber? It's the police." Jason moved quietly through the hall, pausing to listen. Silence, for a few moments, and then a haunted, pain-filled moan echoed out from a nearby ajar door. Quickly the two drew their pistols, moving to either side of the door, listening.

"One…two…three!" Jason spun around, kicking the door open and stepping inside, Mark a step or two behind, pistols out. The room was as dingy as the rest of the building, with a battered antique couch, a small television, and a wooden table. And on the other side of the table was the body of an old woman, blood pooling under her, hands outstretched towards the phone. And above her…

A man was kneeling over her, head and shoulders hidden behind the table, but Mark could hear the sound of Crunching, and scraping. "…The hell is he doing?" He whispered to Jason.

"I don't know…" The other officer leveled his gun at the kneeling figure. "Stand, quickly, with your hands in the air." As he stepped forward, towards the figure, Mark moved around the side, leveling his gun at them as well.

For a moment, the figure didn't move, and then slowly it stood, turning towards Jason. Its skin was pale, eyes sunken in, and covered in a white film. It opened its mouth, a moan drifting from between rotting lips.

"What the hell…? Sir, stop. Put your hands in the air." Jason tried again, taking a step back. Another moan, and the man raised his hands, holding them out in a sickening impression of a hug, and stumbled forward, bumping into the table, moving slowly towards the officer.

"Sir. Please…" The man finally managed to get around the table, lurching towards Jason quickly, fingers making clawing motions through the air. Four steps away, Jason pulled the trigger, the bullet plowing through the man's chest, shattering ribs and puncturing a purplish lung. The man stumbled back, hands twitching and dropping to his sides, letting out a low, haunting moan. And then he slowly righted himself and began lurching towards Jason again.

The two officers fired simultaneously, twin masks of shock on their faces at the now bleeding mans' slow progression towards Jason. No one could take a shot in the chest like that and not even fall down. Two bullets plowed into his ribcage, shattering more ribs, one plowing into the heart, while another went through the neck and the last smashing through the temple. The man…the _creature_ spun around, arms flailing, slamming into the wall and sliding down, a blood stained smear left there.

"What the _hell _was that?" Mark asked, coming slowly around the couch to look at the twitching body. Jason shook his head slowly, staring at the bloodstain on the wall for a moment, then at the body.

"I don't know…it reminded me of those zombies from old movies. Only die after you shoot them in the head." He frowned faintly; looking at the body again, than knelt down by the woman, checking her over.

"You remember that thing I read to you a few months back? The article about Raccoon city, and how it was bombed because there was some kind of unstoppable plague? Maybe this was it! Maybe…these things were there, and they wanted to get rid of them before they spread. I mean…there were cannibal murders there before."

"Maybe." Jason didn't sound like he agreed though, as he stood slowly. "She's dead. Come on, we'll search the rest of the building and then check in with the station." He headed towards the door back into the hallway; stepping out into the dimly lit passage, Mark a few steps behind him.

"Okay, we'll go upstairs, search the rooms to see if anyone is left in the building, then…" He frowned, faintly; glancing back at the room they had exited. There was a shuffling noise, as though someone was walking towards them.

"No way." Mark shook his head, stepping back towards the door, gun raised. "He couldn't have gotten back up after that." A pause, Mark blinking a few times, and then he pulled the trigger. Once, twice, the shots echoed through the hall, and then there was a thud in the other room. Jason looked questioningly at his partner, then over into the room.

Mrs. Webber's body was sprawled out a few feet from the door, a smoking hole just below her left eye, and another in her neck. "She got up." Mark said softly. "She was dead, and she got up. She was a goddamn _zombie!_ And she was coming right for us."

Jason reached out to pat his friend's shoulder gently. "We don't know that, Mark. It could be anything. Come on, we have to check the rest of the house." He shook his head, turning to move towards the Richety staircase at the back of the hall. "She _was_ dead, though…"

He'd worry about all this later.

July 19 – 10:25 AM

Anna awakened to the feel of sunlight on her face, and yawned, sitting up on the couch, her arms still clutched tightly around her stuffed bear, that blanket around her shoulders. She frowned, glancing around the house. The clock on the wall read ten-thirty, and it didn't seem that anything had changed.

Which meant her parents hadn't come home.

She pushed to her feet, socks slipping on the floor as she steadied herself, and ran down the hall to look into her parent's room. Nothing had changed; the bed hadn't been slept in.

"Where _are_ they?" She whispered to her bear, which was clutched to her chest. She wasn't going to cry again. They would be home soon. Maybe there was an accident at their work and they just hadn't been able to leave. Or use the phones.

A few moments later she was in the kitchen, her bear sitting in a chair, blanket curled up in his lap, as she looked for something to eat. She sighed, eventually setting her mind on some microwave waffles, sticking them in the machine and setting the time, then padding back into the living room, and over to the front window.

A moment taken to look outside, short brown locks of hair falling over her face, and she almost started to cry right there. As far as she could see, in both directions, there didn't seem to be a single person. No one! Not the guys who rode those big lawnmowers every day, or Mr. Williams reading the paper on his porch, or even Mrs. Dolby's big scary dog, which always barked at her when she walked to school. She knew most of the people around here worked at the Umbrella facility, but there should have been _someone_ around, even if there was an accident.

The microwave beeped, drawing her back into the kitchen, where she ate the waffles while watching the news. A reporter was talking about the strange rise in missing persons and murders in the last few days. She wasn't sure what he meant, but had the feeling that a three percent rise in people dying and disappearing was a bad thing.

"What's going on?" She asked her bear again, and almost laughed. She hadn't talked to Bear since she was five. Well, with no one else around, it wasn't like she had a choice. She munched on her waffles absently, finishing them up, and turning off the TV when the weatherman came on, since he kept scratching at his neck, and it made her feel all itchy.

"We could go to the store, Mr. Bear." She picked him up, padding along to her room to put on some clean clothes. "We could look for Mr. Roland at the store and see if he knows what's going on." She set the bear down on her bed, going over to her closet and tugging out the big camping bag that her parents had given her for her birthday. She changed quickly, into a dark blue t-shirt, jeans, and her running shoes.

She had a strange feeling she wasn't coming back. Silly, of course, since as soon as she found her parents they'd all come home. But she stuffed a few shirts and jeans into the backpack, and then her blanket and another pair of shoes. The side pockets were filled with her sketchbook, pencils, and her mother's extra cell-phone and charger, which she pilfered from her parent's room. A couple pairs of underwear and socks, and then her stash of candy bars were last in, and she zipped it up, lifting it for a moment to see if she could. Heavy, but she thought she could manage. She dragged it and her bear into the living room, and then scribbled out a note to her parents, leaving it on the kitchen table.

"Went to town (the store) to see what is going on. Come get me when you get home.

Love, Anna."

She put a bright red cup on the corner of the paper to make sure it was noticed, and then slipped back into the living room. A few moments later, her jacket on and her backpack over her shoulders, her Bear clenched in her small arms, she tugged the door open and slipped out into the early afternoon light. It was twelve forty-five.

July 19 – 10:20 AM

On the second floor of the tenant house, the two officers found three empty rooms, and another of the shambling, groaning people in the hall. This time, Jason took the man…the thing…down in one shot to the left forehead, sending it reeling backwards to slump in the far corner. There were two rooms left, at the end of the hallway, and Jason motioned Mark to the closer one, himself moving to the far end. In unison, they pushed the doors open, guns held out.

"Empty." Mark called out, and Jason started to say the same, when he heard a thumping coming from the far wall, blocked by the door. He stepped in quickly, to see two men, in the throws of their blank, lifeless motion, slamming their arms against a closet door. One of them was bleeding from his shoulder, arm and leg, and the other appeared to missing a large chunk of his side.

"Mark, in here," He called out, raising his gun as the two started to turn. Three quick shots to neck and head dropped the closer, who collapsed back against the wall, and two more sent the other twirling around to slam into a cabinet and drop to his knees, head resting against a shelf.

Mark stepped in then, covering his partner, as Jason moved towards the bodies and the closet. He shoved the corpse on the wall over with his foot, watching it nervously, and then grabbed the knob of the closet and tugged it open, gun held ready.

"…Don't shoot!" A panicky voice cried out. Curled up on the floor of the closet, looking dirty and scared was a young blond girl, perhaps seventeen years old. "Please…don't shoot." She said again, arms curled around her knees, rocking back and forth slowly.

"It's okay miss. I'm Jason Richers, this is Mark O'Rielly; we're with the Police. How long have you been hiding in here?" He knelt down next to her, smiling gently.

"A day. A day, I think just a day, but maybe two. What day is it?" She looked up at him, faintly confused.

"It's the nineteenth, miss." Mark called out, having walked around the room to check the other body, making sure both were dead.

"Two days, almost. Not quite." She looked up at them again, her eyes widening, and suddenly she had sprung out of the closet to grab onto Jason. "Oh thank God! You're here. I knew someone would come. Someone _had_ to come, if I just waited." Jason awkwardly patted her back, letting her ramble. "And, you came, so…so…" She frowned, leaning back to look into his face. "…Have you got anything to eat?"

Fifteen minutes later found the three sitting in the squad car outside; Mark having gone to the store at the corner and picked the woman up a sandwich. It turned out her name was Jodie, and she had been coming back from her job when one of those things had attacked her on the street. She'd run into the apartment building, seen another in the hall, and had eventually ended up in that closet, with those two pounding on the doors.

"They would sometimes wander around the room." She said as she ate ravenously. "Bumping into the beds and tables…but they always came back to the closet. They _knew_ I was there."

Mark was sitting in the drivers seat, and now he picked up the radio microphone. "Car thirty-three to dispatch. Barbara, you there?" He clicked off the send button, getting static for a few moments.

"Mark? Oh thank God, someone's still out there." Barbara's voice, sounding frantic, echoed out of the radio. There was a strange banging noise in the background, and Mark thought he heard the sound of glass shattering.

"Barbara? What's going on?" He waved Jason over to the door, so he could hear what was being said.

"I don't know! Some of the officers just…started _attacking_ everyone else; trying to bite them and their eyes had all gone _white._ It's...oh god, they're still Here. I locked myself in the radio room, but they're outside. Can't you hear them? They're coming…Oh god, someone help me!" Barbara appeared to have slipped into some kind of shock, and a few moments later they heard a thud and the radio blared feedback.

"Get in." Mark said to Jason and Jodie, tugging on his belt. The two climbed in, Jason in the front and Jodie in the back, and Mark sped out, hurtling down the strangely empty street towards the station.

Whatever the hell had happened in the apartment, it was happening at the station now too.


	2. The St Louis Incident

Kingdom Come – The Ashes of Paradise

Chapter 2

"Forewarned, forearmed; to be prepared is half the victory."

—Miguel de Cervantes

July 19 – 6:30 PM

Claire Redfield, survivor of two of Umbrella's freak accidents and brother to Chris Redfield, reloaded her pistol as she stepped through the doors into the giant auditorium she and Leon had been using as a base since the outbreak yesterday. So far, about forty people, scattered around the seats, talking in small groups, some crying, and some just staring off into nothing, occupied the room. She could understand their reactions, remembering her own shock and fear when she had been in Raccoon.

She and Leon had been in St. Louis following up a rumor of an Umbrella base in the city. They'd been here for a week when it had happened, and though they hadn't found anything, the fact that there was a spill here proved there must have been a lab. She sighed softly, moving farther into the room and dropping into a chair, resting her gun on her knee, taking a moment to tug out her ponytail and shake her dirty hair loose. She hadn't had a shower in almost 36 hours now, and she felt...nasty.

"Hey beautiful." A quiet voice from behind her whispered in her ear, and she gave a start, until firm hands were placed on her shoulders.

"Hey you." She leaned her head back over the chair, grinning up at Leon, his tasseled brown hair and bright eyes smiling down at her. "You find anyone else?"

"Two more, a kid and his mother. They're over in the other room. You?" He gave her a squeeze then climbed over the back of the chair next to her, dropping into it. It had been almost eight months, and Claire still wished she could see him in that police uniform of his, instead of the jeans and t-shirts he preferred now. She was still gun-ho for red and angels, though the one she was wearing now was covered by a jean-jacket, which was covered in slime.

"Nothing. I think the Umbrella plant must have been in the hotel district. The people we got out there earlier seem to be it." She sighed. A city with several million inhabitants, and so far, they'd found forty, maybe fifty survivors. "I found a bus we can use though, to get out of the city. It's about four blocks from here."

"Good. I found a gas station that managed to avoid getting trashed, so we should be able to fill up the tank there." Leon patted her knee absently, then sighed, leaning back. "You ever get the feeling we're cursed? I mean, everywhere we go, this happens."

Claire shrugged faintly, picking up her handgun and holstering it. "Sometimes I do, but others...well, the way I see it, it's more the people there are blessed that we were here, more then we were cursed. You know of these people wouldn't have made it on their own, except Ronald and Joseph." The two she was referring to were still out looking for survivors. Ron was a member of the St. Louis police force, and Joseph had owned a gun shop. Both of them had been invaluable resources.

"There is another problem I discovered." Leon said this quietly, and Claire turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised.

"What?"

"Well, when I was over on Madison, I ran across a hunter. Two of them, actually, I remember Chris telling me about them. Big, froglike things with sharp claws that can jump. Well, so far as I can tell, if there are two, there will be more. And if some of Umbrella's creations are loose, then who knows what else might be around."

"Wonderful. That's just _wonderful._" Claire flopped back in her chair and threw her legs over his lap absently. She always seemed to think better when she was touching him. "Fine then, when Ron and Joe return, we get the bus and fill up the tank. Tomorrow, the volunteers will do another sweep of the city. We'll leave at six tomorrow evening." Leon nodded, resting his hands on her knees.

"Think you'll sleep tonight?" He grinned at her teasingly, though his voice was somewhat serious. Claire had been having terrible dreams since she and Leon had escaped from Raccoon, and being in that Umbrella prison had not helped the matter.

"Oh, I don't know. With everything going on, I've earned a break. But I don't know if I'll _sleep_ exactly." She grinned back and leaned over to poke him in the side.

"Well, I'll just have to...keep you occupied then."

"Good."

July 19 – 8:45 PM

Leon was filling up the second of four gas tanks from the diesel pump at the gas station, being covered by a tall, balding man carrying a shotgun. His name was Ronald Walker, and until two days ago he had been a lieutenant with high hopes in the St. Louis PD. But now, he was standing in the semi-dark, shooting zombies and watching the back of a rookie cop who was suddenly his superior.

"That's two." Leon called over to him, setting the filled container down and getting the next. He had his gun tucked into his belt incase he needed it, but so far, they'd only encountered three or four of the zombies since leaving the auditorium.

"Well hurry it up. I'm freezing." Ron called back to him with a grin, peering out into the darkness still.

"Yeah, I hear that." Leon was wearing a light windbreaker over his t-shirt, and he could still feel the wind. "Hey, over on your left."

"Hmmm?" Ron swiveled around, shotgun held out, and saw two of the zombie creatures shamble out of the darkness towards them. He raised the shotgun. "I got it." And aimed carefully, taking a few steps forward, until the drooling things were only a few feet away. His first shot caught the closer one in the upper torso and head, sending it tumbling to the ground, arms waving frantically. His next hit the second in the middle, ripping it in two, both halves collapsing in a pile.

"Don't these things _ever_ die?" He grumbled faintly, firing his last shot, catching the crawling torso of the second zombie in the face, and it flopped back onto the ground. He tugged out a few more shells, loading them into the shotgun as he looked around. "All clear!"

"Good. I'm almost done." Leon smiled, putting the third gasoline can down with the other two, then filling up the last. There were no more incidents, and five minutes later, each holding two cans, guns in easy reach, they headed off towards the bus.

July 19, 8:50 PM

Claire glanced back at her two companions as they dragged the last of the zombies off the bus, tossing their bodies onto the pavement nearby. There had been three moving ones inside, and half a dozen dead, but they'd dispatched them easily enough. Joseph Tolster, a blond man with pale skin, a rifle held on a strap over his shoulder, was holding the arms of the last of the bodies, while Liz Evans, a redheaded woman perhaps two years older then Claire, twin handguns tucked into her waistband, was carrying the legs.

"Okay, that's the last of them." The redhead tugged her pistols out and grinned to Claire and Joe. "Why don't you two use those mops and water we drug out here and clean out the bus some, like we planned, and I'll keep watch for once."

"Bleh, fine." Claire smirked at the women, then grabbed up the mop she had brought along, and the bucket of water, climbing onto the bus, followed by Joe, carrying a broom.

Claire managed to mop up most of the blood on the floors and seats, while Joe brushed the more solid waste out the back door. They made idle chatter, Joe telling Claire about the last gun show he had been to, over in Denver. He'd picked up the rifle he was using now there, a beauty of a weapon, if Claire had any opinion.

"Yeah, so there was this guy trying to sell regular old Glock 17's as these special..." Joe drifted off as a scream came from outside, followed by several shots. The two dropped their cleaning tools, tugging out their weapons as they headed for opposite doors, jumping outside.

Liz was laying on the ground, one of her guns held out, her other arm hanging limply at her side, blood coursing down from her shoulder. She was trying to crawl away from a large, sinewy creature, on all fours, with long claws for fingers, a flicking tongue, and an exposed brain.

"Licker!" Claire cursed, stamping her foot to draw the things attention, remembering they only seemed to react to sound. It turned towards her, hissing, almost ignoring the two bullets from Liz that tore through its shoulder. Claire leveled her pistol and fired, bullet sliding through one of its front legs, sending it crashing to the ground for a moment, tongue flailing about. Another shot from her caught the mutation just above the left eye, as a rifle round from Joe slammed into its back, and several more rounds from Liz went through the side, sending it flipping over twice, and then laying their, twitching, screaming softly for a moment, and then falling still.

"Jesus Christ! What _was_ that?" Joe asked, his rifle aimed at the bulbous, pulsating head as he walked over. Liz tucked her remaining pistol into her pants, standing slowly, her hand clamped over her shoulder, her face filled with pain, though she was staring as well.

"It's a licker; one of Umbrella's mutant creations. They're hard to kill, as you saw, and have a six or seven foot tongue to impale people. I assume that's what happened to Liz." She holstered her own gun, letting Joe take surveillance, going over to Liz and putting an arm around her. "Come on, let's get you on the bus." The redhead nodded weakly, leaning on Claire as they climbed onto the bus.

Liz collapsed into the first seat, and Claire rummaged around on the front of the bus till she found the emergency first aid kit, opening it up and looking through it. "Okay, we have some ointment to keep down infection, and a couple bandages. Here." She helped the girl take off her ruined shirt, taking a look at the gash in her shoulder. It wasn't deep, but it was long, running from her shoulder to halfway down her arm.

"It's not as bad as it looks." Liz forced a smile, closing her eyes as Claire tugged out a tissue; dipping it in the only soapy water they had, in the bucket, and cleaning the wound gently, then applying the ointment.

"...Claire?" Liz opened her eyes slowly, peering at the younger woman. "I...I wont get infected from this, will I?" The young woman looked scared, eyes wild, the thought just occurring to her.

"I don't know, Liz. I don't think so, but I don't know." She shook her head, ponytail bobbing, and then unrolled the bandages, wrapping them around the wound and tying it tight. "How does that feel?"

"A little better." She forced another smile, trying to relax. Claire patted her on her good shoulder, and then slipped back out of the bus, over to Joe.

"Any sign of them?"

"Not yet, but they should be here any moment, I'd bet. If they made it." Joe was clenching and unclenching his rifle, eyes drifting to the licker every few moments.

"They made it. Leon knows what he's doing." Claire smiled. She sounded so sure of herself, but inwardly, she was scared. What if something _had_ gone wrong? Leon was her support, much as she was his, and without him...

She killed that line of thought quickly, watching Joe as he padded over to the creature, kneeling down next to it and picking up a bloody, metallic object. He slung his rifle over his back and whipped it off on his shirt. When he saw Claire's questioning expression he held it up, smiling. "Liz's gun."

"Oh, yeah, she'd probably want that back."

He nodded, cleaning it off, looking down at the licker. He kicked it lightly, and it twitched, but nothing more. "I still can't believe it." He sighed faintly, walking back to her. "It doesn't make any _sense._ Why would someone design a virus to do this? It's impractical, for one thing. Look at all the spills, all the death..." He put the pistol into his belt and swung his rifle off his back again, peering into the darkness.

"Don't hurt yourself trying to figure it out." Claire said quietly. "Umbrella doesn't make sense, and they don't think in terms of practicality. Everything I've seen..." Footsteps cut her off, and she spun around, pistol out, to see two figures moving towards them quickly.

"...Leon!" She grinned broadly, making out that familiar figure, and the two gas cans in his hands.

"Evening Miss, I heard you needed a jumpstart." Leon grinned at her as he stepped into view, setting the cans down and stretching. There were some bloodstains on his clothes, and Claire looked at them nervously, then up to his face. "Not mine..."

Ron had set his two cans down, and was looking at the corpse of the licker nearby. "...What's this thing?" His shotgun was pointed at it nervously, even though it was obviously dead. Joe smiled weakly at him. "I'll explain it to you. Come on, let's fill the tanks up." The other man nodded, and they picked up the four cans, heading towards the back of the bus."

Meanwhile, Claire grinned and stepped forward to hug lean gently, peering up at him. "You had me worried for a few minutes, you were suppose to be here earlier."

"We got tied up with a few zombies. Nothing to worry about, but it took some time to clear them out." He pushed her away gently, so as to keep the blood on his clothes off her face, and looked over at the licker. "What happened?"

"Damn thing attacked Liz, sliced her arm open good. She's on the bus. I bandaged the wound as best I could, but..." She leaned against the bus, crossing her arms. "What if we do if she's infected?"

"Well, we can't leave her here. If she begins to show signs, we'll handle it then." Leon sighed faintly, and then headed for the door of the bus. "I had some first aid training at the academy, I'll take a look at her now."

"Okay. I'll check on Joe and Ron." She waved to him and then headed towards the back of the bus.

She stepped around the bus just in time to hear Joe fire his rifle, and to see a zombie collapse about twenty feet away, a smoking hole in his head. He pulled back the hammer, discharging the empty shell casing and loading another, then aimed again. Ron was busy pouring the gas into the tanks, already on the third one.

"I've seen three of them." Joe said to Claire, hearing her footsteps, and then fired again, and there was a thud in the darkness. He grinned, reloading. "Infrared scope." Bang! There was a third thump, almost inaudible this time.

Claire drew her pistol, watching for any that Joe might miss. "Well, we'd better hurry. You almost done there, Ron?" The other man nodded, tossing aside the third can and getting the fourth, pouring it in.

Joe took down three more of the creatures, and Claire one, before the can was empty. More could be seen, shambling slowly towards them.

"Why are they all coming _now_?" She hissed as Ron closed the bus's fuel tank up and stood. "Anyway, back on the bus. Now." She turned and ran around the bus, the two close on her heals, leaping up inside. Leon was talking quietly to Liz, and they both turned to look at the three questioningly.

"There is a large number of the infected coming this way. Leon, the keys are in the ignition. Start her up." Claire forced the back door shut, as Leon nodded, closing the front and dropping into the drivers seat. There was a thump as something smacked into the back of the bus, and a moan pierced the air, followed by several more.

"Here we go." Leon turned the keys, starting up the bus. It took three turnovers, but eventually the engine kicked in, and they all relaxed, as the bus started moving. "Next stop, the survivors. And after that..."

"We get out of here." Claire finished his sentence with a grin, dropping into a chair, letting out a deep breath.

July 19 – 10:00 PM

The bus pulled up outside of the auditorium, and the four uninjured people climbed out, Liz having fallen asleep on the ride back. They had a doctor with them who could look at the injury, and a collection of medicines stored inside that would have to be brought out with the other supplies.

"Okay people!" Claire clapped her hands together as she proceeded to the front of the Auditorium. "Pack up, we leave in the morning." There was a general cheer from everyone present, and she grinned. "Doctor Williams, grab a kit and head to the bus, Liz has been hurt." A man in his late fifties nodded and stood up, picking up his briefcase and bag, and heading to the bus. "Those of you who are armed, you'll keep watch while everyone else loads the bus. We should be able to have this done in an hour."

All those around, from the six kids they'd saved to the two senior citizens, nodded and stood, moving over to the packages of food and such things that had been secured, gathering them up. The ten people with guns holstered their weapons and went outside to stand watch.

"You did good, momma." Leon said with a whisper, teasing her. "We're getting the kids out of here." She almost laughed.

"Kids? Some of these people are three times my age! But...you're right; I think we pulled it off. So, go supervise. I have to use the bathroom." She patted him on the rear teasingly and then headed towards the bathroom.

Leon watched her go, then headed outside, ordering those people still armed to fan out around the bus, as the line of loaders began plodding out of the building. Ron and Joe were sitting on top of the bus, talking absently, rifle and shotgun held ready. He grabbed the two senior citizens, a balding man and a rather withered looking, if friendly, old woman and told them where things should go, then had them direct the others so they wouldn't get stuck lifting things. Then he climbed up the bus, magnum out, and peered into the darkness.

"See anything?" He glanced over at Joe, who was using his Infrared Scope to look farther into the darkness.

"A couple of points of movement. I could take them, if you want." He lowered his rifle, glancing up at Leon, who shook his head.

"No, not yet, if they start coming towards us, then you can. For now, save your ammo." The two nodded, smiling to him, and then went back to watching.

Claire emerged from the building a few moments later, and Leon watched as she walked among the guards, talking to them quietly, whispering advice or encouragement. He couldn't believe how well suited for this situation she seemed to be. He'd always know she was a strong woman, but she took to leadership like a natural. Everyone they had found looked up to her, and listened to her. It was a remarkable change from the frightened girl he'd met in Raccoon all those months ago.

Everything went well, for once. They ended up shooting a dozen or so zombies who came shambling towards their line, but without injury to themselves. And, at 11:15, they closed up the bus, posted the first shift of guards, and everyone slipped inside to sleep.

July 19, 5:30 PM

Jo shifted Bobby in her arms and sighed, looking at the town a hundred or so yards away. It seemed unnaturally quiet, for rush hour. The cars had stopped passing her an hour or so back, but she had gone by a number of wrecks, two of which had the stumbling, white-eyed people scattered around them. Twice she'd ended up running almost a mile, just to feel safe again. The things were slow, but she didn't want to see what would happen if they caught her. Or Bobby.

The first thing she saw as she entered the town made her heart stop for a few moments. There was a state trooper patrol car nearby, crashed into a fire hydrant, a large puddle around it. A body was sprawled over the wheel of the car, and as she walked towards him, she could tell it was an officer, who was very dead. And since no one had come to get him, and there didn't seem to be anyone around, that meant that the town was probably as messed up as the highway had been.

"Bobby, wait here." She set the boy down, who nodded once, his eyes scared. Jo turned, heading over to the car, and pulled the door open. The officer slumped out, and she could see he had large injuries to his neck and chest. She pushed him out of the way with a shoe, trying not to gag. At least he wasn't walking around like the rest of them.

A few moments rummaging in the car turned up the officer's pistol, three clips, and a two-way radio. She pushed away from the car, walking back to Bobby, who had sat down on the street, staring at the cop.

"Bobby, don't look at him." She said absently, toying with the radio. After a few moments she managed to find the send switch and brought it to her face. "Hello? Is anyone out there?"

For a few moments, there was nothing. She almost threw the damn thing away, but then it buzzed to life, a static filled voice echoing out.

"This is Captain Frelon of the Davidville PD. Who's this?" A gruff voice, but a voice none the less. Jo grinned, there _were_ still people alive out here.

"This is Jo Berkton. My son and I are on the outskirts of town, near route 43 and Main. We just walked here. What's going on?"

"I don't know, Ma'am. Stay where you are, I'm only a few blocks away. I'll come and pick you up. If you see anyone else, hide. Something is very wrong with the people here."

"I noticed. Okay, Captain, we'll be here." She put the radio in her handbag, along with the gun and the weapon, and then picked Bobby up, padding over to a bench and dropping down onto it to wait.

Fifteen minutes later a jeep turned around the corner up ahead and stopped, a burly looking man behind the wheel glancing around for a moment. When he spotted them, he waved, and pulled the jeep down the street to them.

Jo stood up, Bobby still in her arms, and walked over to the jeep. "Captain Frelon?" He nodded, reaching up to tug the cigar out of his mouth.

"Yeah, you must be Berkton, come on, get in." He unlocked the door and she tugged it open, climbing in. Bobby hopped off her lap into the back seat and stared out the window as Frelon turned the Jeep around. "By the way, call me Martin. I don't think my rank means much anymore, with no police force."

"No police force?" Jo turned to peer at him, brushing blond locks of hair from her face to get a better look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, everyone but me and Billy-Joe is dead, so far as we can tell. Stumbling around with those white eyes and moans. Zombies."

"Zombies..." He'd said the word she had been avoiding her whole walk back, unwilling and unable to admit that such a thing might have been possible. "It can't be zombies. They don't exist. They aren't real."

"Yeah, well, if you can think of a better term for them, you're welcome to." Jo said nothing as Bobby climbed back up from and curled up in her lap, watching the town go by. They passed a dozen or so of the shambling corpse-people. She refused to think of them as zombies. Also a large number of the creatures were sprawled out on the ground, some with bullet holes, some being eaten by other ones. She closed her eyes after a few moments, and waited for them to get to the station.

July 19, 6:00 PM

Billy-Joe hauled the last of his former comrades down the steps of the police station and onto the bonfire he'd made. Seventeen bodies, at last count, and five other cops were missing still, out on patrols and having never reported in. This last one was William Hooper, a Lieutenant and damn good patrol officer, but there was no point in worrying about that now. The bodies on the fire were crackling and starting to roast, but at least that smell was better then the rotting one the Captain had told him would appear in a few days.

They had managed to find nine survivors, scattered around town in closets and cars. No one was really sure why some were infected and some weren't, but once the creatures had begun attacking in numbers, few had survived. He glanced around the street, moving over to one of the corpses the captain had capped this morning, grabbing an arm with his gloved hands and dragging it over to the fire, tossing it just as a jeep came rolling around the corner at the end of the street, and over to them.

It skidded to a halt and Martin stepped out, the woman and child he'd gone to get climbing out the other side. She looked to be maybe thirty, to Billy-Joe, and the boy to be five or six. Both of them looked dirty, and tired, and scared.

"Captain, welcome back." He nodded to his commanding officer, then smiling to Jo. "The names Billy-Joe, but most people just call me Bill."

She smiled weakly at him, shifting the child in her arms. "I'm Jo Berkton, and this is Bobby." She said little else, her eyes drifting to the bonfire, and then looking away. Poor woman, Billy-Joe thought, to have to see all this. And the child, he was just clinging to her, as though pretending nothing around them was going on.

"Come on, I'll take you inside. You can meet the others." He smiled and headed for the door. Captain Frelon had walked over to two more of the corpses they had shot, and was hauling them to the fire.

"Others? But I thought you two were the only survivors." Jo glanced over at the captain for a moment, then back to Billy.

"Of the Police force, we are, but we managed to find a few people still alive in town. Come on."

He padded up the steps and into the station, Jo following after him slowly.

Billy-Joe led her into the conference room, where the survivors were currently staying. Nine of them so far, not including Jo and Bobby, were in the room, sitting around and talking quietly. There were 7 adults and two kids, and five of the adults were armed. Everyone tensed slightly when the door opened and Billy-Joe came in, but they relaxed, seeing whom it was.

"Folks, seems we have two more survivors. This is Jo Berkton and her son, Bobby." Billy-Joe smiled and stepped back, giving the others in the room a chance to introduce themselves. The four men were all shopkeepers from the center of town, one of them a gun shop owner, and they had managed to ban together and get to the police station without being infected. All four of them were armed to the teeth with pistols, shotguns and backpacks. A pretty blond woman, about twenty-five, was the mother of the two children, and she had been in the station, reporting her car stolen when all hell broke loose. Another was a housewife, currently clinging to her husband's pistol like a life preserver, and the last had owned a flower shop. She was carrying a pair of nasty looking shears, which had bloodstains on them, and might have explained how she survived.

The mother of two came over and smiled, cooing at Bobby and offering him a bit of the food they had. He smiled and his mother put him down, so he could go along with the woman to the corner of the room, where the two other children were sitting. Jo flopped into a chair, watching, as the others introduced themselves, though she only caught one or two names.

After a while, she glanced around. "Does anyone know what's going _on_ here?" She asked quietly, looking at the survivor's faces. But they were all blank. As lost as she was.

"Great. Just Great."

July 20, 10:00 AM

Claire was sitting on the steps outside of the auditorium, pistol held loosely in her hands, frowning at the ground. She'd gotten back from her patrol a few minutes earlier, but had not been able to find any more survivors. Only two more people had been brought in this morning, one by Joe and another by Robert, a quick-witted salesmen who seemed to have a knack for finding people. Everyone was back except for Ron, who had taken the farthest search area, and would hopefully be back soon.

She glanced up, hearing running footsteps coming down the street, and saw Ron hurdling towards her, his shotgun waving above his head.

"They're coming! Hundreds of them, a couple minutes behind me!" He shouted out, hurdling past her and inside, Claire standing and following him. He slid to a stop inside as Leon and Joe ran over.

"I was in the warehouses, right? And I thought I heard someone crying but...I couldn't find them." Ron shook his head and sighed. "Anyway, as I was coming out I was attacked by a handful of zombies. More than I could handle with the rifle, anyway. So I ran...and as I was coming, I saw...more and more of them. They're swarming, and definitely coming this way."

"They'll be here in a couple minutes. We need to get everyone on the bus _now_!" He panted, slumping down for a few minutes into a chair. Joe handed him a box of shotgun shells, which he took gratefully, refilling his ammo belt.

Claire frowned. "Okay, here's what will do. Leon, get the people with guns outside and have them watch for the incoming carries. I'll round up everyone else from the building." Leon nodded, grabbing up his pistol from his chair.

Five minutes later found Leon and Joe on the roof of the bus, and the other nine armed people in a line in front, waiting. The rest of the survivors were trickling out of the building, two or three at a time, running the short distance from the doors to the bus.

"I see them!" Joe had been using the zoom on his scope, and now he fired a shot, echoing through the silence. Everyone else tensed, raising his or her weapon, waiting. After a few moments, the creatures came into view, coming down the main street, and out of side streets. In groups of twos and threes, but always headed towards the bus.

In a span of moments the guardians had opened fire; shotguns, rifles, pistols, a single semi-automatic weapon, aiming for the heads as Claire and Leon had taught them. The first line of advancing zombies crumpled, some falling dead, others crawling forward on their stomachs and hands and knees. A lull in the fire, a moment of collective reloading, and the zombies drew closer. Then they began again, and the next line fell.

The last few survivors ran out of the building, followed by Claire and Liz, both holding their pistols. Liz's arm was in a sling now, but Doctor William's had high hopes for her recovery. "Leon! Call them in!" Claire shouted out, leaping onto the bus with Liz. A moment later two windows opened and they joined in, firing at the creatures.

A third wave had fallen back, and slowly the defenders backed off, slipping into the bus and taking up positions at the windows, picking off the creatures one by one. Leon and Joe were last in, hoping off the roof and climbing in quickly. The ex-cop dropped into the seat, closing the doors, and started up the bus.

"Lets see if they like this." Leon grinned, turning the bus slowly as the zombies began to reach it. The fell before it, one by one, as he pointed it down the street, and let it rip. Starting slowly, the large vehicle ripping through the small army of zombies, dozens falling beneath the wheels, making the bus bounce and shake, but the people inside cheered. They had _made_ it!

"So where to?" Leon asked Claire, who had curled up in the seat behind him. She shrugged and patted him on the shoulder.

"I don't know Hon. We'll head out of the city for now."

"Sounds like a plan." He turned onto the main highway out of the city, knowing they would have to stop and move some wreckage. But they were almost free.


	3. Interlude the First

Kingdom Come

((Interludes will be smaller chapters dealing with non-main characters, but who are necessary to get a grasp of what is going on.))

Interlude the First

The Capital Building was a mess of fires and structural damage, one side slowly beginning to creek inward on itself, the other burning brightly in the evening light.

"Has anyone found the President?" Devin Marson was standing on the front lawn, his black and white Secret Service uniform torn, his face bloody. They'd spent the last two hours trying to clear the horde of...injured people...from the building. He refused to think of them as zombies.

He'd been in the Secret Service for almost ten years now, and as a Presidential guard for four, and he'd never seen _anything_ like this. It was something out of a bad movie.

When no one answered he tapped on his earpiece a few times, frowning. He new the system was working, they'd remote-linked it into a backup truck, but no one was answering. He growled and switched frequencies. "Hazmat two, report."

"Sir, we've found a broken plastic container near the intake valve for the ventilation shaft. It looks as though it was snapped in half by a small explosion. It could be the cause of the incident."

"Roger that. Seal it in something and bring it topside. And be careful, none of my teams are checking in."

He switched back to the first frequency, letting himself pace along the edge of one of the pavements, eyes glued to the building. Even with the destruction around him, he couldn't help but marvel at how bright the building looked. He so rarely saw it without his sunglasses on.

"Front lawn to all teams, check in. Have you found the President?"

There was a sudden burst of static in his ear and he almost pulled the piece out, his hand halfway to his head when a voice managed to cut through the interference.

"..peat...Pinned d....presid...ead...need..lp...too many..."

"Team three," he recognized the voice of his second in command, Brad Erickson. "Team three, what is your situation?" Nothing. "Erickson, report, now."

He counted the seconds, listening to the silence, then cursed. "Damn it. Anyone who can hear me, converge on sector four and then get out of the building." He pulled his gun, dropping the clip and checking it. He'd used half his rounds attempting to get the vice-president out of the building, a futile task as the man had turned into one of those monsters just before they made it to the front door.

He slapped the clip back in and jogged over to the main doors, the solid wooden portals hanging loose on their hinges, the remnants of a grenade embedded in the wood. He and half the Secret Service men had used the grenade to slow down the creatures long enough for them to get outside. But when they had discovered that the President was missing, most of them had volunteered to go back.

He was about to haul the door open when he heard a gunshot and felt the wind of a bullet as it breezed past his ear and embedded itself in the door.

"You don't want to go in there." The voice was accented and female, and Devin spun around to face it, gun raised. An Asian woman was standing there, dressed in a black catsuit with a handgun hanging loose from her left hand.

"Who are you?" Despite the fact that her weapon was lowered, she _felt_ like a thread, and Devin kept his gun trained on her.

"I looked in through one of the windows," the woman pointed with her empty hand to a second story window halfway down the building. "Carriers everywhere, no one was alive. Your president was dead." She sighed, shaking her head. "I'd hoped to warn them, but I was too slow..."

Devin frowned, narrowing his eyes. "What the hell are you talking about? Carriers? And the President can't be dead, he's got two dozen of my men looking for him."

"Well, they're dead too. I didn't see anything but bodies and carriers..." She shrugged. "And carriers are the zombies. They carry a disease that turned them into...what they are. So we always referred to them as carriers."

"We? Who the hell ARE you?" Devin stalked towards her, stopping a foot or so in front, his gun hovering before her eyes. "Answer me now or I'll kill you where you stand."

"The Umbrella Corporation created the virus," the woman half-turned away, ignoring the gun, almost ignoring Devin. She certainly did not seem to consider him a threat. "I used to work for them, until...recently. Once I figured out what was happening, I was going to come here, to warn your President. The U.S. was one of the few countries capable of standing up to Umbrella, and Arnold knew it. He probably had canisters planted in every important building in this city, all over any major branches of your government."

Devin interrupted, waving his gun at her and then letting it fall to his side. "This is a virus? Are...we infected?" The thought of turning into one of those things was almost painful. "And what are you talking about, the Umbrella Corporation? They make medicine. Their company President was here a few weeks ago, talking to some senators..."

The Asian sighed and looked up at the building. "Look, I don't have time to explain it all. You're not infected, neither am I. So we need to go."

Devin took a breath, turning slowly to look back at the Capital Building. As he watched, a chunk of the roof caught fire and then slowly gave into the building. "The President is dead?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Yes...I'm sorry."

He didn't respond, staring up at the building still. His radio hadn't even made static in several minutes, no voices, no cries for help, nothing. He should go back, should...

He felt a weight on his shoulder as the woman placed her hand there. "Look, my name is Ada, and as cliché as it sounds, you need to come with me if you want to live."

Devin nodded slowly, twisting away from the building, his gaze locking onto hers. "Hold on," he tapped his earpiece again. "Hazmat 2, what's your status?" Static. "Hazmat 2, report." After a count of ten he dropped his hand away again and looked at Aya, who just shook her head sadly.

"I will come with you, but I can't leave the city yet. I need to see who I can find. Someone in the command structure has to still be alive. We need to find them."

Ada frowned, her gaze flicking away for a moment. "The odds of anyone..."

"I don't care. It's my job to look out for these people."

The Asian woman actually smiled, for just a second. "You know...you're not the first person to tell me that." She took a breath and nodded. "I didn't help him...but I perhaps...I can help you. There is a plane waiting just outside the city. We will look until morning, and then we are leaving."

"Deal."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several Days Ago

"No!"

Chris Redfield hurled himself towards Sirius, fists held out in front of him like a battering ram. "Don't!"

BANG.

He felt a blinding pain in his left leg, and his feet stopped listening, sending him sprawling against the front of Sirus's desk and onto the floor. Barry and the others yanked out their weapons again, but Sirus's assistant turned his gun on them again, shaking his head.

"Ah, my dear Mr. Redfield...that was a foolish thing to do." Sirius walked around his desk slowly, shaking his head at the fallen man, tossing the small remote from hand to hand again. "Very well. I do hope your friends will help you out of here." The man smirked and turned away, walking towards a door in the far wall, opposite the way they came in.

As Thomas walked through, keeping the weapon turned on all of them, Sirus flicked open the door, showing a well-lit elevator.

"This will take you down to the first floor. You'll have," Sirius glanced at his watch and frowned, then shrugged. "Ten minutes or so. I do hope you enjoyed your stay."

"Bastard!" Chris was trying to push himself back to his feet, but before he could make it, the doors in the elevator swished shut, carrying the two men away.

Chris slumped back down, slamming his fist into the floor. "Damn it! Damn...damn..." Everything was beginning to spin...He could see the outline of Barry, his giant of a friend, coming towards him quickly...and then everything slipped into blackness.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Smith stared out at the port, watching in muted shock as another of the massive storage buildings caught fire. It didn't make any sense. He'd known some of the people who had gone mad, become...well...zombies. There didn't seem to be a cause for it!

He and the Constellation, a state of the art United States Navy Air Craft Carrier, had been on rotations in the Mediterranean when they'd started to receive the radio distress calls. Hundreds of them, on military and civilian frequencies, as if the whole of the world had gone mad.

They had decided to head into Marseille, as it had been the closest port, but when they had got there the docks were already a mass of the creatures, with only a handful of survivors in small boats bobbing around the bay. They had picked up a few of the survivors, some worse than others. After the first few obviously injured people had become...strange...and had to be shot, the captain had stopped picking up anyone off the boats.

It didn't matter, anyway. The boats were few and far between. And most of the people on them were as lifeless as the ones on the docks.

Two of his officers had been killed and he had ordered their bodies pushed off the boat as some childhood memory of a zombie movie flashed back into his brain. Luckily, no one else had been injured. He wasn't quite sure what happened when people were injured by zombies.

"Sir, we've got helicopters coming in." His comm. Officer came running out onto the deck, his portable link to the communications board in his hands, headphones still on. "They are asking if we are infected."

Smith frowned, graying eyebrows narrowing as he considered this. "Infected? No...signal back saying the ship is...clean...and give them permission to land."

"Sir?" The man hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Yes..." The captain nodded quickly. Any other commanding officer might have been angry at being questioned, but Smith had trained his crew to think of themselves. "Infected is a technical term, Lieutenant. It means they have some idea what the hell is going on. But call up a squad to circle the helicopters before they land."

"Yes sir," the Lieutenant headed back into the bowls of the ship and a few minutes later a pair of large attack helicopters burst into view from the smoke and clouds over the land. They circled the skip once before descending down to land on the deck.

Smith's men circled the helicopters, guns ready, as a the large passenger doors on the sides slid open and people began climbing out. The first was a young woman dressed in blue combat fatigues, with a rather out-of-fashion baret on her head. She had a pistol in her hand and she eyed the men circling her warily before tucking it into her belt, holding her hands up carefully. "I need to see your captain."

"Let her through," Smith called out to his men, who made a space to allow the woman through. Behind her, a large man was carefully lifting out another injured man from the helicopter, holding him as he eyed the surrounding guards.

The woman came up to the Captain at a jog and saluted. "Sir, Jill Valentine, STARS officer." She let out a breath as her hand dropped down. "God, we were happy to see you sir...we didn't think we were going to get off the continent."

STARS...Captain Smith mulled the name for a moment. He'd heard about the STARS, the Special Tactics and Rescue Squads that had been scattered all over the country until a year back, when they had suddenly been dismantled. He'd received a report from one of his agents indicating that they had discovered...something. He'd been suspicious, when such a well-spoken of group was dismantled in a manner of days. He didn't like suspicious things.

Like this woman. "Well, Miss Valentine," He stressed the title, not willing to call her an Officer until he knew what was going on. "Can you tell me what the hell is going on here? And why I shouldn't have you thrown right back off the ship?"

"Well, for one thing sir, we don't have anywhere else to go," the woman twisted around and watched the helicopters for a moment. From her helicopter a young blonde woman had gotten out, and was helping a pair of younger girls down onto the deck. "And for another, we know _exactly_ what is going on here. But you need to get out of the bay." She shook her head. "There isn't anybody alive out there. Not anyone you can help, anyway."

Smith shifted away, peering out at the city again. "You mentioned an infection. None of the people in your helicopters are infected, correct?" He had a hunch...There had been rumors, the year before.

"No sir. We would not be that foolish...sir. Chr...One of my people was shot, but otherwise..." The STARS woman seemed to be getting annoyed with the formalities. "Look, we need to get out of here, or we are all going to die. We can tell you what is going on, but you have to take us with you. Now."

A half a dozen extremely armed looking people had climbed out of the second helicopter, Smith saw as he turned back. They were holding up their weapons, trying to appear non-hostile, but they were the type of people that _always_ looked hostile. Mercenaries, Smith would have wagered.

"You and your...friends...will need to be disarmed," she nodded and spun away, jogging back through the circle of armed men to her own people, ordering them to drop their weapons.

Smith watcher her for a moment, eyes distant. Reports he had received always indicated the STARS were the best. They'd take people from any past and train them into...well, into heroes. And then they had suddenly been dismantled, and most of them had gone underground.

And here was at least one, obviously having survived something...horrendous...four thousand miles from the States. From home. "Lieutenant," he waved over his messenger, a thin man who had been standing silent the entire time. Watching. Smith had trained him to watch. It was a useful skill. "Go inside and order us out of the bay. Make for open waters."

"Yessir," the man was gone in an instant, and Captain Smith turned around to watch the docks drifting away, as the flames leapt from the buildings to the people. Half of them went up like treated kindling, the rest tumbled into the bay and floundered around or disappeared into the smoke. A ghastly, inhuman scream seemed to echo around them.

It was like a painting out of Dante's Inferno. Part of him was wrenched with pity that he could not help them, and the rest...was glad it wasn't him.


	4. Back to the Police Station

Kingdom Come – The Ashes of Paradise

Chapter 3

The evil that men do lives after them;  
The good is oft interred with their bones.

—William Shakespeare

July 19 – 11:30 AM

Mark stopped the car a block from the police station, in the center of the street, and cursed. They'd passed a number of the moaning, stumbling zombie-creatures on their drive here, and had been unable to go at all on the expressway, covered with stopped cars and crawling people. But, they'd made it; the police station was in view.

And there were at least a dozen people outside the station, all stumbling around in that strange, mindless manner that was becoming so familiar to the three in the car. Mark counted seven in police uniforms, and three he thought he recognized from earlier today, though he couldn't be sure from here.

"Now what?" Jason asked quietly.

"Now we go and get Barbara." Mark responded, tugging open that black bag of his, pulling things out. He glanced back to Jodie. "Can you fire a handgun?"

The blond girl nodded faintly, her hands playing with the silver cross necklace she wore around her neck, peering out at the monsters. "Yeah...my Dad took me to the firing rang a few times."

"Good, here." He handed her a .45 and three clips, taking a few moments to show her how to load it. "Aim for their heads, but if you can't, just fire till they fall down." He grinned reassuringly at her. "I'd leave you here, but I think we'll need all the help we can get." The girl nodded in response, though she looked quite scared, staring at the gun in her hands.

A few moments later, the rest of the bag was revealed. Mark had his pistol in his holster, and was holding a 12-gauge shotgun in his hand, a belt of ammo around his waist, and the black bag over his shoulder. Jason had a magnum and several clips, as well as his pistol.

"See, I _told_ you something wasn't right." Mark said with a sigh as they stepped out of the car. Jason shrugged.

"I never disagreed." He checked his gun, the blond getting out behind him. "Shall we?"

Nothing more was said, and the three advanced, Mark and Jason in front and Jodie several feet behind them, watching the crowd ahead nervously. When they got within twenty or so yards of the zombies, the crowd began to turn, heading towards them, arms held out, feet dragging. Most of the police officer-zombies had nasty injuries, bites and scraps, and Mark could see that he recognized several of them.

"Jason...those are our people." He said quietly.

"I know. It doesn't matter now." The other man raised his gun, the magnum, and fired, taking off the top half of the closest zombie, an officer named Ronald Sanders, in a spray of blood and brains and sending him tumbling onto his back, twitching. A moment later, all three were firing, Jason systematically removing the upper torsos and heads of the approaching creatures, while Mark and Jodie picked off the rest with shotgun and pistols rounds. After several minutes, they had cleared out the area in front of the station.

"Not bad, Kid." Jason grinned at Jodie, who smiled weakly, clenching her hands and the pistol to her stomach. She was shaking, staring at the bodies around them. Jason put his arm around her gently, and pried the pistol from her fingers, trying to calm her down. She leaned into his chest, and started to cry.

"I didn't...I haven't...I've never even seen a dead body before today..." She whispered, and he rubbed her head gently. He had a feeling she'd seen plenty more before this was over, but he didn't say that, just taking a few minutes to calm her down.

Meanwhile, Mark was checking the bodies over, tugging clips out of the pockets and holsters of the police officers, looking at their faces carefully, figuring out who was who. He stood, sighing, and came over to Jason and Jodie.

"Westerson, Marten, Regernal, Bradly, Thomas and Smith. At least, those are the only ones I could identify." Jason nodded, sighing. Damn it all. What was going on?

After Jodie had calmed down, they all reloaded their weapons, looking up at the station nervously. "We have to go in. But there were a lot of people in there earlier..." Jason said as he took two steps up the steps, eyeing the large green doors. After a long moment of silence, the other two followed him and they headed inside.

July 19, 2:45 PM

Anna was still holding her bear tightly as she walked along the center avenue of Insbruck, a tiny strip of a town made possible by the local Umbrella plant. There were two stores, a bank, a barber and few homes situated inside the town. She'd wrapped her jacket around her waist after a few minutes of walking, and the zipper had been clicking against the ground for a while now, so she'd started walking to that beat. And into the closer of the two stores, Mr. Roland's thrift and grocery shop. He was an old friend of her parents, and he could tell her what was going on.

"Mr. Roland?" She called out as she stepped inside. She'd seen one or two people since she'd got into town, though they had been swaying and funny looking, and she'd figured they were drunks. Mama had always told her to stay away from drunks, so she'd run away from them.

No one answered her call, and she was starting to get worried. What if no one was _here_ either? And the town was full of drunks and all her friends would be gone. No, she couldn't think like that. Mr. Roland would be here, and he'd know what was going on.

"Hello? Anyone here?" She headed instinctively down the first isle, following the pattern her and her mother did when they went shopping. She grabbed an apple and bit into it as she looked around. She could hear noises, coming from the back, but she wasn't sure what they could be.

By the time she reached the end of the aisle she had finished the apple, tossing the core in a trashcan nearby. Mr. Roland always let her eat the fruit when she was here, said she needed it to grow strong.

She stopped dead when she stepped into the big space at the end of the store that usually held meats and fish. Over by the meat counter there was someone sprawled out on the tiles, and two people were bent over them. She couldn't make out the people really, but the red apron on the sprawled man looked like Mr. Roland's.

"Mr. Roland?" She ran towards the three, sliding to a stop a few feet away. There was a puddle of something around him, something red.

"Blood!" She squealed, staring at it. The two figures that were leaning over Mr. Roland stood slowly. A man and a woman, she saw, their faces covered in the blood that was on the floor, their arms swinging loosely at their sides, and their eyes were white and colorless. She thought she recognized the woman as Miss. Jamison, a clerk in the store, and she had no idea who the man was.

Anna stared at them for a few moments, unsure what was going on, but she could tell that Mr. Roland, if that was him, didn't appear to be moving. "Um...Hi?" She took a few nervous steps backwards, as they shambled towards her. "Um...I'm sorry if I interrupted anything." She bumped into a display of soda bottles and went tumbling, a number of two liter bottles rolling of the shelves, towards the two frightening people. The first tripped over a bottle and went sprawling, the other a moment later.

She heard the sickening crack as the second slammed her head into the ground, and yet started to move as though nothing had happened. What was going on? Anna scurried back on her hands and feet and stood, clutching at her bear tightly and turning to run down the aisle.

She flew through the empty checkout area and out the sliding doors, into the middle of street before she stopped. The drunken people from before were still around, shambling down the street, only suddenly they had an entirely new meaning. They were like the people in the store! Two of them were turning towards her, one dragging his leg behind him like a monster in that movie her cousin had made her watch.

A zombie.

Glancing around frantically, the young girl saw that there didn't seem to be anyone in the bank, so she took off towards it, slipping inside and tugging the door shut quickly, then plopping down onto the floor, clenching her bear in her lap and trying not to cry. Mr. Roland had been hurt, everyone was stumbling around like zombies, and there was blood all over the place.

And she _still_ hadn't found her parents.

July 19 – 12:10 PM

The receptionist's desk inside the police station was remarkably empty, considering what had been outside. A single zombie, a stumbling young woman with a nasty wound in her side, was dispatched by two quick shots from Jason.

"Maybe Henry got away." Mark said hopefully, indicating the opened panel in the desk where the secretary would have been.

"Lets hope so." Jason was heading over towards the door into the main room.

"Where _is_ everybody?" Jodie asked quietly, glancing around. She'd expected an army of undead cops to come charging them the moment they had come inside.

"Probably in the squad room and the offices. Brace yourselves." The two came up behind Jason as he said this. A signal to Mark, who raised his shotgun, as Jason kicked the door open and stepped aside. Mark stepped forward, firing twice quickly through the doorway, and then three more times when he got inside. Then he stepped back out, tugging out shells to refill his weapon.

"Got four of them. There are three more." He forced a weak smile. He was not going to think of names, anymore. These were just monsters, not people he knew.

"You didn't see the chief, did you?" Jason asked as he stepped forward, pistol held ready, Jodie a few paces behind. As Mark shook his head, the other two stepped up to the door and inside quickly, weapons held at eye level, scanning the room.

There were actually four left moving, one crawling towards them between the desks, his torso riddled with holes from the scatter of the shotgun, but apparently not quite dead yet. The other three, two dressed as patrol officers and the last in the bright, showy clothes of a pimp, his mustache still visible through the blood on his face, turned and came stumbling towards them.

"The one on the ground!" Jason yelled to Jodie as he swiveled and began firing on the closest walker. Four shots took down the first, and three the second, while three from Jodie stopped the one on the ground. Jason took his time on the last, halfway across the room, and it went down with two quick shots to the forehead.

"Clear!" He shouted back to the door, and Mark stepped in, shotgun resting on his shoulder. He was grinning faintly, almost...smugly. "What?"

"I just remembered. I still have my temporary pass for the weapons room. Remember, the chief gave me a seven day one before that sting day before yesterday." He held up a thin blue plastic card, twirling it between his fingers with a laugh. "You guys go find Barbara. I'm going to go and put this baby to some use." He started towards the back of the room.

"Good idea. Be careful!" Jason called after his friend and partner with a faint smile. Good thing Mark never remembered to return anything.

"Hey, it's me." The shotgun waved absently back, another faint laugh. "I'm _always_ careful." He shoved the door to the rest of the station open, shotgun held ready, and was gone.

Jason frowned for a moment, watching the door. "Come on," A forced smile to Jodie, turning towards the side door, which was slightly ajar, and heading over, checking his clip as he went. Never hurt to be careful

The corridor outside of the desks was long, clean, and empty, and Jason couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, but the echoing of their shoes in a corridor normally filled with voices was extremely disconcerting.

"Okay, the communications room is through this next door and down the hall. Barbara was talking about there being people banging on the windows, so the zombies are probably still out there. Here's what we'll do. I'll kick the door open and go in firing. You cover me, and come in after twenty seconds. Got it?" The young woman nodded faintly, holding up her gun in an attempt to look fierce, but it didn't pierce her frightened eyes.

"If the chief is still alive, I'm going to owe him a fortune in doorknobs..." Jason couldn't help but grin as he slammed his heavy boot into the wood just next to the knob, then again, shattering the wood, the door swinging open, as he raised his pistol, clasped in both hands.

There was a zombie directly in front of him, perhaps five feet inside the door, and he took it down with a single shot to the forehead. Another stumbled into view, and two shots to the temple sent it crashing against the wall.

"In I go." He stepped inside and spun left, the door blocking the right for the moment. Two more of the shuffling dead were a few paces away, and he dispatched them quickly, then stepped aside for Jodie to come in, shoving the door out of the way.

The COM room was twenty feet up the hallway, and between the two survivors and that door were six more of the shambling, bleeding folks. Jason grinned to Jodie and held out his hand. "Let me see your gun for a second." She handed it over with a shrug. He wanted to show off, though he'd never admit it.

A pistol in both hands he proceeded to stride down the hall, quickly and efficiently taking the creatures down, two falling from a single shot from each pistol, and the rest with a variety of chest and neck hits. When he reached the COM door, he turned back to Jodie and grinned, waving her to him. "I must admit, that was remarkably refreshing," he handed her gun back with a grin, and she just shook her head.

"Boys..." Blond hair bobbed around as she said this, and coming from someone who was seventeen, it wasn't exactly a nice thing to say.

"What?" Jason's indignant look and puzzled face made Jodie laugh, shaking her head more.

"Nothing, nothing. Come on, in the room." Jason stepped back, gun held ready, as Jodie tugged the door open, stepping behind it.

The COM room was cluttered and disorganized, radio headphones and papers and the giant switchboard taking up most the space. And in the corner, curled up in a ball, a small redheaded woman, arms curled around her knees, was sobbing quietly. Jason holstered his pistol and went over to her, leaving Jodie to stand watch.

"Barbs? Barbara...its Jason." He laid his hand gently on her shoulder and she gave a little start, lifting her swollen brown eyes to peer at him for a moment, blinking.

"J...Jason? You came...you _came!_" She almost leapt at him, arms wrapping around his chest, knocking them both back against the wall, her head buried in his shirt as she started sobbing again. "Oh thank God...I was so frightened." The young officer patted her back and smiled, quite surprised. Barbara was always so calm and collected on the radio, reporting murders and fires and deaths, but she'd never really faced any of those conflicts herself.

"It's okay Barbara, you'll be safe now." Well, as safe as any of them were, now. "But we have to get out of here. So you're going to need to calm down. Mark is going to meet us in the squad room. We wouldn't want to be late." He gently pushed her to her knees and stood to help her up. She looked at the ground for a few moments, and then nodded, grabbing at his hand.

"You guys...you wont change, like the rest, will you?" She glanced between Jason and Jodie nervously, trying to fix her hair and rubbing at her eyes.

"I hope not, Barbara. I really hope not. I don't know what causes people to change though, so we'll have to see. Come on, there is no point worrying about it now." He patted her on the shoulder and then moved towards Jodie and the door. The young blond had been watching them both quietly, and she smiled at Barbara now.

"We need to meet Mark, so come on. I'll tell you what happened to _me._ Since it sounds we have similar stories." The teenager put her arm gently around Barbara's shoulders and led her from the room.

July 19 – 12:15 PM

Mark slumped back against the wall near the door to the weapons locker, reloading his shotgun slowly, taking a moment to relax. He'd plowed through a good ten zombies between the squad room and here, and it really wasn't fun to shoot people he'd once worked with. He still hadn't seen a few faces he'd expected to. The desk-boy, the Chief...He hoped they made it somehow.

He flicked up the barrel of the shotgun once the last shell was in, and let it swing down to his side on the shoulder harness. A moment, to draw the thin, flimsy blue passcard from his pocket, looking at it quietly; damn thing had better work.

A few steps took him to the card reader, and he studied it for a moment, considering. "Here goes nothing..." He swished the card through the reader quickly, closing his eyes.

Beep.

Beep.

Silence. The red light on the panel didn't change, and Mark kicked the door irritably, sighing. Damn it. He flicked the card between his fingers slowly, looking at it. The damn thing was supposed to still work! All those weapons, tucked in there. He _had_ to get in there.

Come on, come on...He swished the card through again, praying. Beep...Beep...Nothing.

"Gah!" He spun around, moaning, when there was a rather loud buzzer, the light turned green and the door flicked open.

"Yessssss!" tucking the card back into his pocket with a grin, he stuck his foot in the crack of the door, tugging the Remington shotgun around in his hands, and then yanking the door open. "Home free now!"

He stepped through the door and came face to face with the barrel of a rather nasty looking colt .45. "Holy!" Stumbling backwards, he slammed into the doorframe and almost dropped to his knees.

"Mark? Mark!" A meaty hand grabbed his shoulder to steady him and then tugged him completely into the room, letting the door swish shut behind him. A large grin, a large man, and a large gun quickly put the pieces together in the young officers head.

"...Chief? You're alive? We all figured you'd gotten killed with the rest...I was afraid I'd have to shoot you." Mark said quietly, grinning, staring at his boss. That was a nice surprise...

"So Barbara did manage to get the word out." The large man smiled, scratching at his arm with the muzzle of his gun. "There were five other cars out on patrol, along with yours, so we can expect a few more of the officers to show up. I..." He shook his head, leaning against one of the weapon racks. "We got caught by surprise...two of the perps brought in this morning turned into monsters, and then a couple of the officers...no one knew what was happening, and by the time we figured it out...Well, it was too late. I made it in here, barely."

As the chief talked, Mark walked around, checking the equipment racks quietly. "Ah...well, it's happening all over the city, Chief, so don't feel bad. Jason and Jodie, a woman we picked up, went to look for Barbara...but I haven't seen any other survivors in here." He tugged down a number of the large black bags from the back of the room, dropping them onto the floor and opening one quickly. "The way I figure it, whatever is happening has probably infected most of the city. And we should probably try and get out, gathering up survivors as we go." He headed over to one of the racks, carrying the open bag, and began tugging weapons down into it. A couple of rifles, three shotguns, a number of officer-issue Glock handguns, four magnums, and a single sub-machine gun.

"Well, I think we should wait a while, see if any of the other cars show up...And search the cells for the prisoners, because they were locked in, so a few might still be...alive and uninfected." The chief took a hint from Mark, grabbing up another of the bags and tugging open the ammo locker, stuffing boxes of free-ammo, clips, and various other armaments.

"Chief...you didn't tell me we had _these._" Mark had tugged open the second weapon locker, and found a row of grenade launchers, resting above a large drawer of rounds for them. He tugged two of them down and stuffed them into another bag, then the rest, and followed them up with as many rounds as he could stuff into it.

"Yeah, well...you aren't exactly the most _responsible_ of the officers, Mark. Besides, what do you need a grenade launcher for?" He zipped up the ammo bag, tossing it on the floor, then grabbed up another and began putting whatever he could find in it. Smoke grenades, a bullhorn, a collection of the knives sometimes issued to undercover officers, and a number of handheld radios.

"Well...I can't really _argue_ with that...but still, cool weaponry needs to be shared, chief. I'm very disappointed in you." Mark grinned, zipping closed the two bags he had, shouldering one and lifting the other in his free hand. "We should go meet Jason and the others though...hopefully they found Barbara."

"Shouldn't I be giving the orders?" The chief asked with a grin, hoisting the other two bags in one hand, holding his magnum in the other. "You're right though. Off we go." He shoved the door open and stepped out into the hallway.

July 19 – 12:35 PM

Jason, Jodie and Barbara were all siting in the squad room, waiting for Mark to return. The two woman were seated at one of the desks, speaking in whispers, relating their stories, while Jason paced back and forth slowly next to the desk he and Mark had so recently occupied.

"Where _is_ he?" He asked for the seventh or so time, pausing to peer at the door across the room, frowning. As he did so, it swung open, and Mark stepped out, followed by the chief.

"Mark...Chief!" Jason grinned broadly, looking between the two of them for a moment. "I'm...glad you're both okay." Jodie smiled at the two of them, and Barbara leapt from her chair to tackle the chief in a quick hug.

"Oh thank god, you're both okay." She grinned; red hair flopping around as she hugged Mark too, and then stepped back, trying to compose herself.

"We got what we came for, Jason." Mark patted the two bags, and the chief nodded, standing a few feet behind him, grinning faintly. The chubby man was quite happy, it seemed, to have a few officers still standing. "We should load up the car and bring it over to the doors...and wait a few minutes, see if anyone else shows up." The other man nodded, walking over to them quietly, looking through the bags for a moment.

"Woah, grenade launchers!" He tugged one out, looking at it.

"That's what _I_ said." Mark grinned, and then closed up the bags again after Jason had put the launcher back. "Come on, we'll go get the car, the chief can watch the girls." He waved to Barb and Jodie, and then lifted up his two bags again as Jason took the two from the chief, and they headed for the door.

July 19, 3:45 PM

Once she'd gone through the entire bank, sneaking behind the counter, even though Mom had told her never to go back there, but it wasn't like anyone was around to stop her. Anna returned to the main room and sat down on the big fluffy chair near the door, curling up. There didn't seem to be anyone in the building, except for one of the drunk stumbling zombie people locked in an office. She didn't really have any idea what to do, now. She'd assumed that someone in town would know where her parents were, or what happened to the plant, and she would have been back home by now with Mrs. Williams or Mr. Arlon, sitting in the living room and watching Television till her parents came home.

But now...

There were several of the creatures outside, wandering around the street, pounding into doors and windows, or just standing still, swaying back and forth slowly. She thought she recognized a few of them, having little else to think about. The one closest to the door could have been Mr. Howard, the bus driver, and the lady outside the supermarket could have been Mrs. Jenkins, the owner of the bar. Tandy Jenkins, Mrs. Jenkins daughter, was one of Anna's friends, and had been on the bus yesterday.

She'd actually walked past Tandy's house on the way to town, but it hadn't occurred to her to stop. Now that she thought about it, the lights _had_ been on...maybe someone was in there. She could go and find out, anyway. It would be better then just sitting in here. And from watching the people outside, they certainly weren't very quick; she could outrun them easily enough. And just sitting here wasn't accomplishing anything...

Pushing out of the chair she padded over to the window and looked out. There didn't seem to be any of the zombies to close to the door, just one, maybe five feet away. Her backpack, which she had been dragging around behind her, was tugged up onto her shoulders, and she clenched her bear tightly. If she was going to do this, now was the time...

Fifteen seconds and two deep breaths later she was out the door and running, the one nearby zombie stumbling towards her, much to slow, as she took a long loop around two of the others and then headed straight for the road back towards her home, as fast as she could.

July 19th, 4:10 PM

Anna had walked the last ten minutes or so to Tandy's house, having not seen any of the zombie people since she had gotten away from the town. It seemed like they were moving towards the town, or else were trapped inside the houses. She'd seen a number of people stumbling past windows on her way here.

She climbed the steps outside of her friend's house slowly, a simple white and blue suburban two-story. She rapped on the door quietly, shuffling her feet a little, and waited. For a minute or two, there was nothing...and then quiet voice called from the other side of the door.

"W-who's there...?"

"Tandy? It's me, Anna...let me in!" She leaned heavily against the door, hair tumbling across her face lightly. "Please."

"Anna...?" For a few moments, nothing, and then the door swung open. Framed in the semi-darkness of the entrance was a small girl, a few inches shorter then Anna, clenching a blanket around her shoulders, brown hair matted, eyes wet with tears.

Anna smiles softly at her friend, as reassuringly as she could, considering how scared she herself was. "Tandy...I...uhm...can you come out and play?" She giggled, clenching her bear. What a...silly thing to ask! Yet she asked every time she was here...She blushed brightly, and her friend actually laughed, softly, stepping back.

"I don't think that's such a good idea. Quick, come inside." Anna nodded, stepping through the doorway quickly. The living room wasn't very well lit, just the light from the almost-blocked window and a bit from the kitchen. Tandy had apparently, taking to sleeping out here, though, because next to a rather battered looking brown couch someone had constructed a small cushion fort, with a coffee table as one wall, and the couch as the other, and the sides both cushions. There were blankets and pillows and a large stuffed crocodile inside.

"You're parents aren't here either...?" Anna asked quietly, turning to her friend, who just shook her head once, sniffling.

"I...after the bus dropped me off...no one was here...so I went looking for Mr. Thomas...but no one was at his house, and..." Tandy shrugged her shoulders a little and walked over to her fort, moving aside one of the ends and sitting down on top of the blankets.

"So you built a pillow fort...?" Anna smiled softly, sitting down next to her, giving her a little hug. "Have you seen anyone at all?" She tried to distract the other girl, and herself.

"There were a few people...early today and yesterday, wandering around the streets. They kind of looked sick. I didn't go talk to them." Anne nodded at the girl's response.

"I saw a few of them too. You did the right thing. Are you hungry?" She stood again, tugging Tandy up with her. "Come on. We'll make something to eat. It'll be fun!" Anne had always been mature for her age...and now she took it upon herself to cheer her friend up, hard as that might seem.

An hour later found them sitting on the front steps of Tandy's house, and though neither girl had managed to cheer up, they were at least no longer hungry. They hadn't seen any of the stumbling, zombie-like people they'd once called neighbors and friends, and Anna was beginning to think they were the only people who hadn't been affected by whatever was going on.

And there was still no sign of her parents.

"Tandy...we can't stay here."

"W...what?" Her friend's eyes grew wide, turning to stare at her. "But what about our parents? They should be home soon...." Tandy wrung her hands in her lap, unsure what else to say.

"It's been two days, Tandy. If they could come home, they _would_ have. Something must be wrong." Pushes to her feet, Anna turned and tugged the front door open. "So come on. We'll pack you a bag and go see if we can find anyone."

Tandy, sniffling, nodded, standing slowly and padding inside.

It took them twenty minutes to gather up a backpack with everything Tandy would need, including the little laptop her father had given her. Nothing amazing, but they didn't want to leave it behind. Anna was waiting in the living room for her with the TV on, once the other girl had finally settled into the idea. Tandy came out, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, her backpack over her shoulders. "I'm ready..."

Anna smiled, pushing to her feet and heading over to her. "Good! We should head back towards town...maybe some of the people are back to normal." She was lying, really...she didn't think they'd be back to normal...not after all the blood she saw. Still, it couldn't hurt to keep Tandy hopeful.

"Do you hear something?" Tandy asked quietly, glancing towards the front door, as Anna tugged on her own backpack.

"Not really. You're just imagining things, come on." Anna grinned, heading over to the front door and tugged it open, stepping outside.

And stopped dead.

Stumbling around the street, very slowly moving away from town, was a group of the creatures. She thought she recognized a few, some of them were definitely the same people she'd seen in town. Had they followed her? They had to leave, but they couldn't go out there. What now?

A gasp from Tandy, standing just behind and beside her, woke her from her mental reverie.

"What do we do?"

"We could run. They're slow and they get in each others ways." Anna tried to sound sure of herself, but the quiet moans from the stumbling creatures was unnerving.

"I don't think I can run, Anna." Slowly, Tandy stepped back into the house, away from the door, hands clenching at her stomach nervously. "I'm to scared."

Anna didn't move for a few moments, watching the creatures outside, but when two of the closest ones turned and began moving towards them, she quickly stepped back inside and shut the door. "Well, we can't go that way now."

Tandy frowned at her, then began sobbing again. "I'm sorry...I should've run. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, stop that!" Giving her friend a shake, Anna went over to the window, peeking outside. "We'll figure something out." She tugged off her backpack, setting it on the floor, and after a moment, Tandy sat down next to her.

Outside, several of the people had begun moving towards Tandy's house, the first one reaching the door after a few moments, slapping its hands against it with a wet, meaty sound. As that noise continued, over and over, Tandy brought her hands to her ears, again starting to sob, and crawled away from the window.

They were stupid, Anna thought as she watched, for some reason remaining fairly calm in the face of it all. Perhaps seeing them in the grocery store had desensitized her? She'd heard that word on TV somewhere, about violence...maybe it was right. But, they _were_ stupid...the group outside the house was either milling about or else pounding their hands on the heavy oaken door, instead of trying to break a window, or find another way in. It was...mindless.

But that still didn't mean they could get out.

July 19th, 1:15 PM

Mark and Jason made it the car without a hitch, which had annoyed Mark to no end, because he was itching to play with the grenade launcher they'd found.

"Mark, man, calm down. I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities to blow stuff up before we get out of here." Jason tossed his bag into the back seat and then climbed into the car.

"Yeah, I know. Not sure that's a good thing...but at least it'll be entertaining." Mark slid into the passenger seat and slammed his door shut. "So, we going to just park out front, or should we head down to the garage, see if we can scramble up another ride?"

"Well..." Jason considered for a minute, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "If we could get one of the S.W.A.T. vans, we'd be safer, but less mobile. I doubt any of those zombie-things can break through a metal side. I'm not so sure about the glass." He started the car, pulling out of the spot slowly and heading towards the station.

"Well, we might as well head back inside and ask the chief and the girls. Its not as thought we're in a horrible rush."

"We should be, you know. We have no idea how we're going to get our next meal, or even if we can get _out_ of the city. We should check as soon as possible." Jason pulled the car to a stop out front.

"Yeah, well, five minutes won't hurt anything." Mark hoisted his pistol as he shoved open his door and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

"I suppose not." Jason slid out on the other side, scanning the street around them. There weren't any of the zombie-types nearby, just one crawling figure almost a block away. "There is one reason to want out of here very, very soon." Jason quipped as he closed his door and turned to face his partner.

"Oh? What's that?" Mark smirked.

"The smell. It's going to absolutely _stink_ here soon." Jason grinned, and then frowned as a shadow passed over his friend. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Mark shifted, turning around to look up...just as something large crashed into the roof of the squad-car, the metal buckling and sinking under impact.

"Holy..." Jason backed away slowly, staring up at the creature that had suddenly blocked off his view entirely.

The creature was about six feet tall, its skin a nasty white-pink color that looked like it melted and ran together in a number of places. Its left arm was deformed and tiny, two or three inches long, almost to the giant, mutated appendage that sprung out of the other shoulder. The hand had smashed through the back window of the car, and was twitching and clenching as it rested against the back seat, a full six or seven inches longer then the rest of the creatures body. The glass had stuck into its flesh in several places, and a reddish-white blood was slowly leaking out around it.

Jason watched in silent fascination as that arm was drawn up into the air, chips of glass raining down off it onto the car and the ground. The fingers flexed slowly, held above the creatures head, shaking off the last of the glass. He thought he heard Mark shouting something, but everything outside of himself and the creature had faded away. He'd never seen _anything_ like this...

Suddenly a spurt of the red-white blood flew out of the creatures chest, and Jason's mind ran back into reality. He heard the second gunshot, and the third, as Mark began taking shots at the creature, plugging holes in that bulbous arm and chest. The creature roared, starting to twirl around towards the gunman, and Jason finally yanked out his pistol, opening fire as well.

It took seventeen shots, between the two of them, before the creature went down, collapsing onto the hood of the car and then sliding to the ground with a wet thud. Jason lowered his pistol, eyes wide...

"What the hell _was _that?" Mark asked softly, holding his own gun out towards the fallen corpse, watching the giant right arm continue to twitch softly.

"I...I don't know." Jason spoke softly as he came up around the other side, peering down at the creature. It didn't have a head, he noticed, or not much of one...it was small and deformed, like the smaller arm. He reached out, tentatively, and poked it with the muzzle of his gun. "At least it's dead."

"Yeah...but the cars trashed. And there might be more of them. Come on" Mark tugged open the back door, pulling out the two bags of weapons, handing one to Jason as the man came around the back. "It took an entire clip to kill that thing, you know."

"I noticed. I want to know where it came from." Sliding his pistol back into its holster, Jason grabbed up the bag and headed into the station.

"Something like that...almost had to be _made_."

((Next time, Claire and Leon, as well as back to Jo and her son!))


	5. Realizations

_((Hey all. Finally responding to my reviewers! And…uhm…More of you need to review. After this there is only one unwritten chapter, and if it doesn't feel like many people are reading I'm probably just gonna stop after it is up…_

_Anyway._

_JoJo10: Thank you. You've reviewed every chapter and you just rock! Keep reading! Tell your friends!_

_Rain1657: Thanks for reading! Glad you like it._

_Rhys D: I am working on having canon characters in the story, and there will be lots of them. But, I had to add my own, because there aren't enough canon characters to really grasp the scope of something like this. I hope you keep reading._

_Toya: I'm gonna post everything I have written, have no fear._

_Sketch: hah! ))_

Kingdom Come – The Ashes of Paradise.

Chapter 4

Hope in reality is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man.

—Friedrich Nietzsche

July 21, 4:30 AM

Leon S. Kennedy pulled the bus to a halt on Interstate Seven, next to a sign that said "Philadelphia: Ninety-three miles" and turned to stretch his legs, looking back over the crowd of people on the bus.

Everyone was asleep except for Claire, who was perched behind him, staring out the window absently. Her blue eyes were half-closed, and she was tapping her booted foot against the floor absently. Leon turned around completely straddling his chair, and smiled at her.

"How you holding up?"

She shrugged faintly. "I'm worried about Liz. We needed to get her to a hospital. Even if she isn't infected, the bleeding wont stop." She turned to look at him. "Speaking of which…why did we stop?"

"Because my feet hurt. Come on, it's your turn. You can drive the last stretch." He pushed to his feet, patting her thigh as he flopped over her into the seat.

"Fine, fine." She laughed softly, giving him a poke as he went over her, and then crawling into the drivers seat. "I'll be glad to get this over with." She kicked the bus back into drive and pulled out onto the highway again. There wasn't a single car in sight, in either direction.

July 21, 6:30 AM

"Shouldn't there be more cars on the road?" Liz's voice piped up from her chair behind Leon, where the injured young woman was leaning her forehead against the glass, watching the other cars not go by.

"Well, maybe it's too early." Leon offered quietly, frowning.

"It's almost rush hour, Leon." Claire said, tapping her fingers against the wheel as she slid the bus to a stop just before the entrance to the Philladelphia Expressway. "We've passed, what, six cars so far? And they were all doing at least eighty. Even that police car." She tugged on her ponytail irritably. They'd chosen Philadelphia as their destination because it was far enough away from St. Louis that no carrier could reach there, but close enough that they could make it in one day. But even without passing near any major cities, they should have seen many more cars then they had.

"Maybe there was an accident and it cut off access to these roads. We won't know unless we try and head into the city." Leon sighed, leaning back in his chair as Claire nodded and started the bus moving again, up onto the expressway.

"How far are we anyway?" Liz was now fiddling with one of her handguns nervously, loading and unloading the clip.

"About forty miles. We'll be able to see it soon."

"Okay."

* * *

And see it they did. As the city came into focus, the high rises and apartment complex's glistening in the morning light, Claire slammed on the breaks and the bus lurched to a stop, tossing everyone forward in their seats and forcing them all awake.

"…Jesus!" Leon said softly, peering over the brunette's shoulder, his gloved hands dropping onto her shoulders.

As far as the eye could see, the expressway was covered in cars. Not fifteen feet away was an overturned tractor trailer, its carriage scorched with now-spent fire, and a blood splattered window, shattered, had the top of a body sticking out, a shard of glass impaled through the chest.

"Okay, so there was an accident. Now we know." Claire said softly, preparing to get the bus moving again.

"No. Look!" Liz had climbed forward into Leon's chair and was pointing into the pile of cars that stretched out along the road, behind the trailer. Scattered amongst the vehicles were people stumbling around, acting rather dazed and disoriented, as though they weren't sure where to go. One of them kept walking into the side of a car, hands scrambling at the roof aimlessly.

"No…" Claire shook her head. "It can't. No…you don't think…?"

"Zombies." Doctor Williams spoke up, walking towards the front of the bus. The rest of the passengers were just sitting in their chairs, looking shocked and frightened. "There must have been an outbreak here as well."

"But…no. Why would there be two at once? The odds of even _one_ happening are slim. Two?"

"Well…" Leon tapped his fingers on the chair quietly. "Maybe we were wrong. Maybe someone got here..."

"What, a thousand miles? No one could get the virus and last that long. Our estimates place infection at…" The young brunette frowned, trying to remember the exact number.

"Rebecca said two to four hours at the most."

"Yeah. So, there's no way it could've been carried here. So…"

"So we don't know _anything_ yet." Liz said quietly. "We might as well go to the city and see if the people there are infected too."

"No!" Doctor Williams shook his head quickly. "Not a chance. There was a community hospital an hour or so back, I don't remember the name…we backtrack to there and get everyone off the bus." He looked at Claire and Leon, "If you want to go to Philly then, fine, but I won't let you take these people back into an infected area."

Claire just nodded and started to turn the bus around.

July 20, 9:30 AM

Anna was awakened that morning by the sound of glass shattering.

She and Tandy had hidden in the kitchen, pulling all the blankets and pillows off the couch and beds and making a little makeshift room back there after the power had gone off in the middle of the night.

She pushed to her feet, glancing over at her friend, who was curled up in a little ball, still asleep. A few soft footsteps carried her to the door of the kitchen, where she peered out at the large window.

Or rather, she stared at the air where the large window had _been_. The glass had shattered inwards and was now scattered all over the floor, and one of the zombie-people was collapsed on the floor, twitching. Anna stared, tugging at her hair nervously, waiting to see if it got up. There was a puddle of blood forming on the rug, leaking out from the person's head, so he probably would…

BANG.

A sound, from outside, and she saw another of the zombies go stumbling past the window to collapse in a heap nearby. There was a shout and she saw flashes of green clothing as two men went running by, guns in hand.

A few moments later there was another shot, and then another. Anne just started out the window, occasionally catching a glimpse of one of the carriers falling over.

"…Anne?" Tandy's soft voice from behind, as the smaller girl slipped up next to her. "What's going on?" Anne started to respond, when a young woman with short brown hair suddenly stepped up to the window, peering inside critically at the zombie on the floor. Anne was too frightened to say anything, and Tandy just whimpered…which drew the young woman's attention, and she looked up and spotted them.

And grinned.

"Carlos! I found two more!" She shouted out behind her, and then carefully kicked in the glass at the bottom of the window, climbing inside and nudging the body with her foot, then moving towards the girls quietly.

Anne grabbed Tandy's hand and darted back into the kitchen quickly, a call of "Hey…wait!" echoing after them. They ran over to the back door, but it was locked! And not just the handle, but the chain was thrown! And neither of them could reach it. Booted footsteps on the floor behind them, and they both spun around, leaning against the door as the young woman set her gun on the table.

"…I'm not going to hurt you." She smiled. "My name is Rebecca." She paused, a foot or two from them, and held out her green-gloved hand. "Are you two okay? How long have you been hiding here? Where are your parents?"

"I…" Anne looked up at the locked door, then at Tandy, then back to the woman. She was pretty, and she wasn't acting like the zombie-people…but she had the gun and…"I'm Anne." She felt Tandy shaking against her and reached out to grip the smaller girl's hand. "She's Tandy. We don't know where are parents are…"

Rebecca frowned for a moment, shifting to glance around the kitchen, then quickly crouched down and smiled again. "Well, you can't stay here, alright? The zomb…the sick people," she pursed her lips as she spoke. "The sick people are dangerous, and they might get in here. We don't want you two to get hurt, right?"

Anne stared at her for a long moment before she nodded. "But, we don't have anywhere else to go and if we leave our parents won't know where to find us." It suddenly occurred to Anne that the note she had left told her parents she'd be in town, and she wasn't. What if they'd gone to look for her? "And…and I…my note said I'd be in town but I'm not! What if they are looking for me?"

Rebecca stood up straight, "You told them you'd be in Insbruk? Well, my friends and I are going that way…you can come with us, alright?" She reached back and picked up her gun, and Tandy took a nervous step backwards, but Anne held her hand tightly. Rebecca didn't seem to notice. "It's not safe here. Come on, alright?"

"Anne…what should we do?" Anne felt Tandy's breath, hot on her ear as the other whispered.

"We…can't stay here, Tandy. We have to go with her, alright? She…seems nice."

"But she has a gun! Daddy said guns are bad."

"She doesn't look bad," Anne looked over at Rebecca, who had pulled the bottom of her gun off and was staring into it. It seemed she was content to give them a moment to decide. "We should go. Get your things, alright?"

Tandy sniffled, pulling her hand away from Anne to rub at her eyes before she nodded. "A-alright." She suddenly darted past Rebecca and into the other room.

"Wait!" Rebecca reached to grab her but she was gone, and the woman turned to stare at Anne.

"We'll go with you…she's getting her stuff." Anne forced herself to smile as she began to gather up the blankets on the floor. "You're…not going to hurt us, right?"

Rebecca smiled and kneeled down, shaking her head. "No, Anne. I'm not. I just want to get you away from the sick people." She picked up Anne's backpack and held it as the little girl stuffed her blanket into it.

"And you'll help us find our parents?"

Rebecca frowned, for a split second, then smiled and nodded. "I…of course I will, Anne."

* * *

Ten minutes later Tandy and Anne had all of their things together, and Rebecca had gathered up all the food in the refridgerator and was carrying it in two big plastic bags.

"What if Mommy and Daddy come home? They won't have anything to eat…" Tandy stared at the bags in apprehension and Rebecca shook her head.

"They will have to come from the town, right? We will have to pass them if they are coming home." She smiled, but Anne thought it looked fake, like a clown. "They can get the food from us then."

Tandy stared at the young woman, then nodded, hoisting her backpack onto her shoulders.

As they entered the living room, the saw a tan man with a rifle standing outside, framed in the shattered edges of the large window frame. "'Becca, you in here?" His voice had a strange twist to it that made the words seem to slur together wrong.

"I'm here! I found two more survivors," Rebecca moved past the two girls, towards the window, with Anne and Tandy trailing behind. "What's the situation?"

The tan man reached a hand in to take the two bags from Rebecca, then smiled at the two girls. His face was open and friendly and it made Anne relax. But then he was looking at Rebecca again.

"We didn't find anyone else, but a couple of the houses had those giant freezers and we found a lot of unspoiled food." Tandy and Anne came up next to Rebecca and the tan man reached in to take their bags as well.

"Hello girls, what are your names?" He asked as he set their bags down outside.

"I'm Anne, and she's Tandy." Anne started to answer, but suddenly found herself scooped up by Rebecca and handed out the window to the tan man, who held her under her arms as he set her on the ground.

"Well, it's nice to meet you both. I'm Carlo." He ruffled her hair then reached in to take Tandy and set her down as well.

"You talk funny." Tandy said as she was put down, staring up at the man. "And your skin is weird." Anne grabbed her hand, hoping to keep her quiet.

"That's cause I'm from a place where _everyone _talks funny." Carlo winked at her, then turned to grasp Rebecca's hand as she climbed out the window.

Anne turned to pick up her bags and stopped, staring out at the street. The grass and the road were littered with bodies, but past them, in the street, was a caravan of trucks and cars and busses, all clustered together. People were moving in groups around the vehicles, some loading bags into cars and others just talking. Anne saw that every single one of them had a gun.

"Come on girls," Rebecca had been talking to Carlo in a whisper, and she came up behind them now. "Get your things, I'll show you where you can put them."

July 21st, 10:30 AM

Claire sat with Liz in the lobby of the small community hospital as the others finished hauling the last of the dead from the building. Wherever the outbreak had started, it had definitely reached the small place, but there had not been enough people to truly count as an infestation. They'd found a small cadre of survivors on the top three floors, and they had moved their own people off the bus and up to those areas before they began cleaning out the bottom two floors.

And now, as far as they could tell, the hospital was zombie-free. A bonfire had been set up out front to get rid of the bodies, Dr. Williams was getting his patients treated, and for the moment, everything seemed okay.

"So, are we going to try to go into the city?" Liz spoke up suddenly. She'd been silent since they had reached the hospital, staring out at the morning sky. But now she had forced a smile onto her haggard face, staring at Claire through her bangs.

"I'm not sure. If the city is infected, it would probably be a bad idea, but if we can find survivors. Leon wants to go." Claire sighed. "I don't know. We'll see."

Liz just nodded and settled back into her seat. "If you go, I'm going with you." She said after a moment, not looking over.

Claire frowned and sat up straighter, pushing forward in her seat and resting her hands on her knees as she eyed the other woman. "But you're hurt."

"Dr. Williams got the bleeding to stop with the stuff they had here, and I feel pretty good. Besides, you and Leon will need all the help you can get." Liz shrugged as she talked. "And I don't want to just sit in this place hiding like some scared little girl."

Claire smirked and settled back into her seat. "Hell, I want to hide. I'm scared to death of going into the city." Her eyes drifted out the window to the bonfire. "Hell, not just the city. The hospital was infected, which means the virus is out here." She felt a shiver run along her arms and hugged them to her stomach. "What if it is everywhere?"

"It can't be everywhere. It must just be a coincidence." Liz shook her head quickly. Claire had explained the situation, the idea of the virus and probably an accidental release. "It could just be that the two labs were linked, somehow."

"Maybe…" Claire shoved herself from the chair suddenly and stretched. "I'm going to find something to do. I can't sit still anymore."

Liz glanced out at the bonfire, watching as Leon threw another corpse on the blaze. With a nod she stood as well. "I'll come with you."

July 20th, 10:30 AM

Rebecca had shown the two girls to a pair of bunk beds on the camper she and Carlo had been living in for the last several months. It was big, six beds in the back, then a small living area, then a rather fancy looking laboratory and finally the drivers seat.

Rebecca was seated there now, the two girls peering over her shoulder as she drove the vehicle into Insbruk. Carlo and a number of the others had gone on ahead to clear out as many of the 'sick people' as they could. And, supposedly, to look for Anne and Tandy's parents.

But Anne was suspicious. Something didn't seem right about all of this. Every time she or Tandy mentioned their parents, Rebecca frowned. Just for a second, but it was noticeable; and it was bothering Anne.

Tandy had gone into the back to find the bathroom, leaving Anne perched on the passenger seat as Rebecca pulled the large vehicle around an overturned car in the street.

"You think our parents are sick, like everyone else, don't you?" She asked suddenly, turning to stare at Rebecca.

The young woman frowned and tossed Anne a startled look before she let out a sigh. "I don't know, Anne. I really don't. They could be perfectly fine." Rebecca glanced over at the girl, then turned her gaze back to the road.

"But you don't think they are."

Rebecca didn't answer for a long moment, her gaze out the windshield as she finished turning around the accident. Then she brought the camper to a halt and set her hands in her lap.

"No. I don't think they are, Anne. If they were, they'd have tried to find you already." The young woman shook her head.

"But, they could be looking for me. I wasn't at home, and the note I left said I'd be in town and I wasn't and…" Anne trailed off and stared at her hands. "They could be fine."

"You're right. They could be perfectly fine, Anne." Rebecca smiled, and it was a genuine smile this time. "I hope you are right."

Anne just nodded and turned to look out the window again.

When Tandy came back, Rebecca and Anne exchanged a silent glance, then talked about something else.

July 21st, 2:30 PM

Claire was asleep in a lounge on the third floor of the hospital, stretched out on one of the red-and-grey couches that every hospital seems to thrive on, when Liz found her. They had separated hours earlier, Liz in search of painkillers and Claire to catch what sleep she could.

She awoke the moment Liz touched her shoulder, sitting up and peering around. "What? Are we leaving?"

"No, no. Not yet. Leon is helping to gather more supplies from that mall across the street," Liz took a step back, her hand moving to settle at her side. "I wanted you to see something."

Claire stared at her, eyes half-focused, and Liz had the strangest urge to step back. "I was having a nice dream, you know. I don't get to dream much." With a groan, Claire hauled herself to her feet and stretched.

"Sorry. But…I don't know. I want you to come look at something," the injured girl was already moving as she said this, back towards the door out of the waiting area. Claire tucked her fingers into the pockets of her jeans and followed.

The hospital had its own generator, so the elevators were working, but neither of the two girls were willing to test them, instead taking the stairs. Liz lead her up to the top floor of the building now, into what the doctor had called the 'special care unit.''

"Why were you up here?" Claire asked as she paused to peer into one of the rooms. She hadn't bothered t come here herself. Exhaustion kept winning out over curiosity.

"I couldn't settle down, so I went exploring. Come on." Liz's good arm came up to tuck her bangs back into her hair as she turned a corner, and Claire had to jog to catch up.

"Do you have a gun? I know they said this place was clean, but…" Claire trailed off and sighed. "I'm paranoid."

"No, my guns are downstairs. But I was up here for a while and nothing happened, so it's safe." Liz stopped and tapped on a large window. "In here."

Claire came up next to her and leaned forward a bit to look, hands slipping into the pockets in the back of her jeans. Inside, the room was divided in two. Half the room was trapped behind a large piece of plastic, and inside had a bed, a chair, and a small table. The other half of the room was full of monitoring equipment and charts.

"It's a bubble-boy room!" Claire said after a moment, laughing. But then she peered at Liz. "Why are you showing me a bubble-boy room?"

"The panel says they just pumped carbon monoxide into the bubble, the day before yesterday." Liz frowned and shook her head, hair scattering about her face. "Nothing breaths that stuff, it's like poison. So why would they use it?"

"No idea. Did you ask one of the doctors?" Claire moved past Liz and into the room, going over to the monitoring panel and letting her hand drift over the dials.

"I tried to, but they were…odd. Suddenly everyone was busy." Liz followed after, but leaned against the wall near the door. "I don't know much about stuff like that, but the only reason I can think of to pump carbon monoxide into a room would be to kill something."

Claire paused, staring at one of the blinking lights. "…Or someone."

For a long time, neither of the girls spoke. Claire stared at the panels, tapping a few keys as her mind raced. Finally, she turned back to Liz and shifted to sit on the edge of one of the panels.

"Okay. A hypothetical situation. Let's say…the doctors have managed to rescue a handful of people…thirty or fourty. Now, they're stuck up here, on the top few floors, but they're safe. So, they start to try to figure out what is going on."

Liz nodded silently, so Claire continued. "While they are up here, someone is attacked by a zombie. But they know that all the zombies were trapped on the lower floors, which means one of the people they had 'rescued' must have changed. So, the doctors go about examining the body and discover that, even though the carrier had looked fine, they had been bitten. A small bite, nothing horrible, but they had changed."

Claire waved a hand around as she spoke. "They're smart people, these doctors. They put two and two together, so now they know that a bite from a carrier infects someone. So, they examine the people they rescued."

"Some of them, logically, will have been bitten. They may be starting to get sick as the doctors examine them, in fact. So what do they do? They can't leave them with the uninfected people, but they aren't so cruel as to throw them back to the zombies."

Liz didn't seem surprised by any of this, she just nodded in agreement and let her gaze settle on the bubble-half of the room.

Claire shifted on her perch to look in as well. "Before a person changes, they are as easy to kill as any other human being. So they probably told them…something. I don't know what. But they brought the infected people up here, and…they gassed them." She reached out and brushed her fingers over the plastic shielding. "How awful."

Liz shook her head after a moment. "They did what they had to, in order to survive." She reached up and scratched at the bandage on her arm. "The same thing you would have done to me, if I had been infected."

Claire's eyes went wide and she twisted back around, shaking her head. "No! We wouldn't have! We…we would have…" She trailed off and stared at the floor.

Liz just watched her silently.

_((Next time…A remarkably long chapter about the Philadelphia group, trying to get them up to speed…and we just how horrible the outbreak really is.))_


	6. The Fall of Philadelphia

Kingdom Come – The Ashes of Paradise

Chapter 5

Note – Exclusively Philadelphia chapter. Need to get these folks caught up, timeline wise.

"Ring around the rosey,

Pocket full of poesies...

Ashes...ashes...

We all fall down."

- Children's Rhyme

July 19th, 3:00 PM

Jodie gripped her handgun tighter, the cold metal pressed against the side of her face as she tried to relax. She was leaning against a wall painted in an ancient and fading green color just outside of the jail cells in the basement of the police station, listening to the sounds of footsteps fading away as Barbara continued on, the older woman not realizing Jodie had stopped.

Finally, the footsteps ceased and she heard the scrape of rubber on the cement floor. "Hey, you alright?" The crisp, controlled voice of the red-head drifted back to Jodie, and she forced herself to nod.

They had come down here to see if any of the prisoners were unaffected by...whatever it was that was happening. The chief was waiting outside to meet a squad car that had called in shortly after Mark and Jason had gone to the garage, and the two girls had decided they needed to accomplish something too. So, off they went.

Barbara took several steps back, peering at Jodie carefully. The woman was much calmer now, which might have had something to do with the large shotgun she had strapped to her shoulder and clenched in her hands. "You sure?"

Jodie closed her eyes and forced the gun down to her waist, taking a deep breath. Then she nodded again. "Yeah. I just...needed a minute." She smiled, opening her eyes to focus on the other woman as carefully and steadily as she could.

"Alright. Come on, we need to hurry." Barbara half-waved the shotgun down the hallway, then started walking again. Jodie took another long breath, pushed herself off the wall and followed.

The two had not encountered as many zombies as they had expected. In fact, they had only needed to shoot three between the squad office and the cell hallway, and then a last one just inside. Barbara said it was the officer who was supposed to be watching the gate, but his face and clothing had been so badly torn that Jodie couldn't figure out how the women knew. Not that it mattered.

They were about to enter the cells. Barbara said there were twenty seven people being held down here, everything from three people being held overnight for processing to a murder suspect being held for county until the end of the week.

But as Barbara slid her key-card through the lock and the door slid open, the hallway was silent. _Dead Silent_; Jodie frowned at the words as they popped into her head.

Neither spoke as they stepped into the room. Before them stretched twenty identical gate-frame doors, ten on each side, and all were closed but the last on the left.

"Aren't they all supposed to be closed?" Jodie whispered to Barbara and the other woman nodded, hefting her shotgun.

"Yeah, but something could have shorted out. There were a lot of shots being fire, all over the building." She stepped forward then, gun out, and peered into the first of the cells. Jodie was a step behind, back to the other as she checked the cell opposite.

Two men each were standing inside, staring blankly at the walls and swaying back and forth. They made no motion to acknowledge the two armed women, and when Jodie started to reach forward to shake the gate and make them, Barbara grabbed her arm.

"They're dead. Don't bother." Jodie frowned, staring at the men for another moment. "Look at their eyes. That's what gives it away." Barbara pointed, and Jodie saw then that all four of the prisoners in those cells had white, cataract-covered eyes.

"They shouldn't be standing up, then." Jodie muttered, flicking the safety on her pistol off and on. "Should we shoot them?"

"No...they can't get out. Come on." Barbara gave her a little tug, and they moved on to the next set of cells. All were either empty, or had a shambling, dead figure inside. It was disheartening, to say the least.

When they reached the open cell, they found two of the carriers, both had been shot and were lying twitching on the floor. Barbara moved over warily to inspect them, and Jodie couldn't help but look away, staring into the cell opposite.

It took her a moment to realize there were people in the cell, huddled in the corner. "Barbara, someone's still alive here." She called back to the other woman as she stepped up to the jail cell and tapped her gun against the bars. "Hey, you alright?"

The huddled form shifted and split, and revealed two people, kids really. Both stared at her, wide eyed, and the man pulled a gun from his coat and pointed it at her. "Go away!"

"Hey, watch it! We're here to help." Barbara had come up next to her, and the older woman almost growled at the man. Jodie took a _long_ step backwards and brought her gun up to point at him.

"No you aren't. That cop wanted to help and he's dead and go away!" He waved the gun threateningly and Barbara smirked, brandishing her shotgun.

"Put that down, kid. You can't stay in there, you'll starve." As Barbara spoke, Jodie watched the girl. She looked almost exactly like the boy, and Jodie realized they must have been twins. Brown hair, brown eyes, twin masks of fear. Definitely twins, and not more than thirteen. She frowned suddenly and stepped forward.

"How did you get down here? You aren't criminals." She had gotten arrested before, and they didn't bring Juvenile's down here.

The boy jerked his gun towards her for a moment, then let it drop to his lap. "We...we were here with mom reporting her car stolen and everybody went crazy. Mom...she...she told us to run and we ended up down here and the cop guy put us in here...he said it would be safe and...but...all the other cells...the people were..." He trailed off suddenly. "Zombies aren't supposed to be real..."

"Calm down, okay?" Jodie tried to smile, but it felt as fake as she sounded. "We're okay, like you. We've been getting rid of the...zombies...and you really need to come out of there, alright? You'll be safer with us." She glanced towards Barbara, who nodded after a moment.

"No!" The boy tried to scurry back farther, his sister clinging to his arm. "The cop was...he was fine, like us. But...but he got sick! He felt himself...he...he gave me the gun and then he...ran away and left us! You'll get sick too! We...we have to stay in here."

Jodie was about to answer when Barbara grabbed her arm and dragged her down the hall. "Look. I can go open the cell, and we could just drag them out of there. We don't have time for this."

"You want to risk getting shot?" Jodie frowned. The kid was probably a horrible shot, but she wasn't willing to walk in there and try him. "They're fine in there for now. Those bars will keep anything out, so don't worry about it."

Barbara started to shake her head, but stopped and closed her eyes. "Fine."

Jodie smiled as she pushed past the woman, back towards the cell.

July 19th, 4:30 PM

When the two bands of explorers returned, Mark and Jason from the garage, Jodie and Barbara from the cells, they found the chief laying out a bunch of sandwiches on one of the desks. He had raided the small cafeteria and brought back everything he could that wouldn't spoil outside of the fridge.

As Mark described the creature that had attacked them in the garage, Barbara made two extra sandwiches and disappeared back to the cells.

"I'm not sure we should let those kids stay down there," Jason commented, watching Jodie walk off. "I mean, I know they're scared but we can't be running down there to check on them all the time. And it'll be harder to get them out of there when we leave than it will be now."

"Yeah, but how do we get them out? The kid has a gun, and if he's as scared as you say, he'll use it," Mark finished off a sandwich and leaned back in his seat.

"We could scare them out with another gun," Barbara volunteered. She was holding her shotgun in her lap, running her hand along the barrel.

"Yeah, but then they'll be scared of _us_ too. We don't need that," the chief shook his head. "I'll go down and get them once we-"

He trailed off when the room was filled with teeth-jarring crackling, and they all turned to stare at the large radio tucked into the far wall.

"...thi....car 9....anyon....is..." Mark was up and running before the sound faded, leaping over a desk to grab at the microphone.

"We're here! This is philly PD, station 4. Who'se there?" He shouted into the microphone, wincing at the feedback this caused. He froze, listening, staring at the speaker, but heard only static. "Shit."

"Barbara," the others had followed Mark, and the chief now nodded to the dispatch controller, who pushed Mark out of the way and plucked the microphone from his hands.

She turned several dials on the panel, tapped the microphone against the edge and brought it to her face. "Car 9, this is dispatch. Do you copy?"

The four of them held their collective breath, and for several seconds there was nothing but the faint crackle of the speakers. Then: "...-iggen piece of- ... -ello? Dispatch? Barbara, is that you?"

Barbara couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, it's me...it's good to hear your voice, Mickey. Hold on a moment." She leaned back and handed the microphone to the Chief.

Jason and Mark were grinning as well, watching as the Chief took the microphone from Barbara. Their boss was not smiling, and he almost frowned as he started talking.

"Mickey, this is Chief Mersel. What's your situation?"

"Chief?" Even through the radio, they could tell Mickey was surprised. Understandable, considering how rarely the chief answered calls in. "I'm over at the Natural History museum, with Joey. We got chased in here by that mob of...whatever the hell they are. Zombies? We got lucky though, the curator closed the doors and the garage, so only a few of them got inside. I would've called in sooner, but we were busy getting rid of them."

There was a pause, and the sounds of voices in the background could be heard before Mickey returned. "Look, we need help. The damn things are swarming outside, filling the square...somethin' in drawing them here. We can't get out, and they can't get in but...there's over a hundred of us here. We're going to run out of food fast."

The Chief sighed, holding the microphone against his chest. He had expected something like that, something horrible. "Look, Mickey...to be honest, it's a mess here. I've got two officers and myself left alive, plus Barbara and a couple of survivors. I don't see how we can get you out of there right now. How long can you hold out?"

"Jesus. Only two? But...what happened?"

"We aren't sure, but it's bad. Look, we need to know how long you can wait."

There was a long pause before Mickey responded. "Not sure, Chief. Maybe till nightfall. But the doors here aren't reinforced or anything, so those zombies are going to get in eventually." The man sounded worried.

The chief leaned against the desk behind him, staring at the ceiling, and Jason came up next to him. "Let me talk to him." With a shrug, the taller man handed over the microphone.

Jason closed his eyes for a minute before he started speaking. "Hey Mickey, it's Jason. Look, I've got an idea."

"Jason? Is Mark alive too, then?"

"Yeah, we're...fine. Listen, move everyone upstairs," Jason pictured the museum. He hadn't been there in years. "See if you can trash the stairs. Make it so nothing can get up, alright? These things are stupid, they won't be able to get up there."

"Alright, we'll try. But I don't know how long that'll take. If you can get us out of here..."

Jason nodded at the radio. "We will. It just might take a little while." He paused. "Oh! And watch out for something with...well, a giant arm. It looked like a monster. I don't know, exactly...it could probably get upstairs, though."

"Watch out for a monster with a giant arm? If you say so," Jason could tell Mickey didn't believe him, but didn't try to convince him. He wouldn't have believed it either, if he hadn't seen it.

"Just trust me. Look, we'll get back to you when we figure something out," Jason handed the microphone to Barbara, who moved back to the radio panel with it. Then he turned to the Chief and Mark.

"Alright...so what are we gonna do?"

Meanwhile, down in the cells, Jodie was attempting to coax the twins out of their hiding place with a pair of sandwiches.

"Come on. It's safer upstairs, and you can eat something. And you can get away from those things." She waved a hand to indicate the shuffling corpses in the other cells. "You can't like being near them."

The twins were watching her carefully, and she had a moment to really look at them. Brown hair, the boy's short and the girl's long, pale skin, the same basic facial structure...but what really caught her were their eyes. Large, brown, and so full of fear and worry they almost made her cry. She had to get them out of the cell.

"But what if you get sick?" The girl asked softly, her hands in her lap.

Jodie let out a sigh and shook her head. "Look...I don't know what causes this, but...if it were going to happen to me, it probably would've already, right? Hell, most of the city..." She trailed off. Damn it, she couldn't tell them that... "I mean, the people that are going to...change...already did."

Her brother frowned, but the girl just looked over at the cell next to them. Her eyes were distant, her lips moving soundlessly. Suddenly, she nodded and pushed to her feet. "I'm hungry. And...and I don't want to stay in here anymore."

"Melissa," her brother stood as well, but only to try to pull her back down. "We're safe in here! We can't leave."

"We have to, Derrick. We'll starve in here. And...I don't think Mom is going to come for us, not if she hasn't already. These may be...be the only people left!" She was shouting by the end, and Jodie saw that her eyes were filled with tears. "I don't want to stay in here!"

The boy, Derrick, took a step backwards and frowned, eyes shifting from his sister to Jodie and back, searching their faces before the gun fell from his fingers and he nodded. "I don't really want to either."

Jodie smiled at this, nodding. "Good. I'll be right back, I need to go unlock the cells. And...Derrick, was it? Pick up your gun." Her smile faded a little. "You'll need it."

July 19th, 5:00 PM

"What about the SWAT vans?"

As Jodie and the two kids emerged from the cells, Jason, Mark, the Chief and Barbara were seated in a square near the radio, discussing options. Jason had dragged a chalkboard from the briefing room and he wrote 'SWAT VANS" on the board as Mark suggested it. Half a dozen options had already been written and crossed out.

"Wouldn't work," the chief shook his head. "A swarm of those zombies could tip one over, and then you'll be dead." He stopped as Jodie ushered the two children to a desk nearby and dragged seats over for them. "I see you got them out."

"Yeah," Jodie smiled, handing each child a sandwich. "This is Derrick, and that's Melissa. They decided hunger wasn't much fun."

"Well hello then," Mark grinned at the two kids, and Jason resisted the urge to laugh. Mark, unsurprisingly, was amazing with children. "I'm Mark, the stiff at the board is Jason, the fat man is Chief Mersel and the pretty redheaded lady is Barbara. Welcome to our little party."

Both kids mumbled 'hellos' around their sandwiches, with got a small laugh from Barbara, everyone else just smiling. More survivors, that they didn't have to find a way to rescue, was something of a relief.

"So what's going on?" Jodie asked as she sat down on the edge of a desk, crossing her legs.

"We've got a bunch of survivors at the Natural History Museum. We're trying to figure out how to get them out of there." Barbara said. "But we can't find a way that doesn't get us all killed. Apparently the place is surrounded by zombies."

Jodie raised an eyebrow, shifting her gaze to stare at the board. "What about a helicopter?"

"We thought of that," Jason shook his head. "I can fly one, but the police chopper is small. We can only fit six or seven people in it, at best. It would take a _long_ time to haul those people out."

"And even if we get them out, where are we going to put them?" the chief sighed. "If Mickey is right, and the zombies are clustering there because of all the survivors, they're going to follow us when we move." He glanced around. "I love this building, but it isn't really secure."

"What about-" Derrick spoke up suddenly, but he trailed off when everyone turned to stare at him. "Uh...never mind."

"No, Derrick, what is it?" Jodie leaned forward to peer past Melissa at the boy.

"Well, my dad works as a custodian at the Navel Yard in South Philly, and they have a lot of helicopters," he shifted in his seat.

"I thought they closed that place down," Barbara frowned.

"They did, but Dad said they...mothballed...a bunch of things; ships and helicopters at least. And they still have a cleaning staff there." Melissa spoke up then, smiling nervously.

"It could work," Mark nodded, writing it on the board. "And since the place is closed, there probably weren't many people there. Hell, they might even still be alive."

"But how do we get there?" Jodie asked, prompting a grin from Mark.

"Well, the helicopter can hold _us_ easily enough. We could fly over, and if it looks like we can get down there and get what we need without getting hurt, we'll land. If not, we fly back here and find another way." He stood up, then paused and peered over at the Chief. "Er...if you think it'll work, Chief."

Chief Mersel laughed at that, shrugging. "I think you're doing a better job figuring this stuff out than I am, Mark. If we can make it work, it's a go. But we all go, and we take all our stuff." The large man glanced over at the kids for a moment, then back. "This place isn't safe enough for anyone to be by themselves."

"But someone has to watch the radio, Chief." Barbara tapped the edge of the radio panel.

"We'll use the ones on the helicopter," the Chief stood, and everyone but the two children did as well, watching him.

He stared around at all their faces before clapping his hands together. "Well, come on people. Get to it."

"Sir!" Jason and Mark said as one, grinning, as the Jodie and Barbara nodded. The four of them scattered, leaving the chief standing there with the two children. The big man turned to them.

"You were here with your mom, right?" They nodded slowly. "Well, I'm not going to lie...I do not know if she is still alive. But...we can look for her while they get ready, alright?"

The twins looked at each other for a long time before they stood and nodded.

July 19th, 6:30 PM

With a grunt, Mark tossed the last duffel bag of ammunition and weapons into the helicopter and sat down on the edge, staring out at the city. Several of the towering sky scrapers were on fire, their shapes glistening in the evening light. He could hear the groans of the zombies out in the streets, and the occasional distant sound of survivors, a motor or a gunshot.

"Scary, isn't it?" Jason said, coming out of the roof access door with two large bags that contained everything canned from the cafeteria.

"Extremely," Mark nodded, pursing his lips. "I still hear signs of life, though. There are people out there."

"I know," Jason set the two bags inside and turned to sit down beside his partner. "But we can't help them, Mark. If we go out there, we'll die. And then we won't be able to help everyone at the museum."

"If we even can," Mark signed. "What if the kid is wrong?"

"Then we'll think of something else," Jason reached out and gave the man a pat on the back "Don't give up now, man. You're supposed to be the positive one, remember?"

Mark laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I know. It's just ... hard."

"I know. But we can't dwell on it. There are still things we have to do," Jason turned to stare out at the city as well.

They sat there in silence, watching the city they had signed on to protect burn. Mark pushed to his feet finally and smiled. "Come on. Let's go get the others."

Downstairs, Jodie and Barbara were perched on a pair of desks, waiting. Barbara had been trying to contact the museum, but no one was answering the radio.

"If they moved to the second floor, it makes sense that they can't get to their car," Jodie said, eliciting a nod from the other woman.

They were sitting in the same places, talking quietly when the chief entered, followed by the twin teens.

Jodie glanced up and watched them, unsure how to react. "How'd it go?"

"We didn't find any trace of her," Chief Mersel shook his head, setting his handgun down on a desk. The twins moved across the room and Melissa climbed up to sit next to Jodie and Derrick settling into a chair next to them.

"She could still be alive," Melissa said quickly, a hopeful smile on her face. "She could've gotten out of the building."

"Maybe she did," Jodie smiled, trying to sound hopeful. It was unlikely, but anything was possible. "We couldn't get through to the museum, but I figure they're up on the second floor."

The chief nodded and started to respond when Mark appeared in the doorway. "Alright people, this flight's takin' off now, so make sure you've got everything and head for the roof. We'll meet you up there." He waved and vanished back into the door.

The five left in the room moved to gather up their things.

July 19th, 7:15 PM

The helicopter was uncomfortably cramped, but they all managed to squeeze in. The twins were seated on top of the ammunition bags, which definitely made everyone even more nervous, but nothing had exploded from a misplaced foot.

Mark flew, and everyone else stared out the windows at the city. It was a wreck, car accidents and burning buildings, bodies littering the streets, and worse yet the bodies that were walking around the streets.

"That car is moving!" Melissa suddenly shouted, and everyone twisted around to see. Down in the street a battered looking old chevy was driving down the street, turning around the wrecked cars and slamming into the zombies.

"There must be people in there..." Jodie murmured.

"Yeah. Maybe I can get their attention," Mark pressed forward and the helicopter lowered towards the ground, dipping down in front of the car. Everyone waved, and the car seemed to slow for a moment.

"I think they waved back," Barbara said. "It looked like there were a couple people in there, but I couldn't really tell."

"Well, I hope they can follow us. I have to pull up," Mark brought the vehicle back up, and Jodie twisted around in her seat to watch. As the helicopter went around a building, the car shifted to follow.

"They're following us. I hope they can get through..." Jodie glanced at the others, then returned her gaze to the car.

It took them ten minutes longer than expected to get to the Navel Yard because Mark had to drop the helicopter down twice more when it seemed like they had lost the cars attention. But, finally, they were over the ships and buildings that made up the once-occupied yard. Half a dozen large ships, including an aircraft carrier, were floating in the water off the edge, and as Mark peered down he didn't see any signs of zombies.

"It looks empty. Where should I land?"

"Over there, on that ship," the chief pointed to the aircraft carrier and Mark guided the helicopter towards it.

"The car just pulled in," Jodie called out, half-rising in her seat. "I'll go down to get them."

"Not alone, you won't. I'll come with you. Barbara too. Jason, take Mark and the twins and see if you can round up some transportation for us."

"Sure Chief," the man nodded, jolting forward as the helicopter touched down on the deck of the carrier. Everyone piled out and armed themselves. They stayed together, moving cautiously across the giant ship.

Between Barbara and Jason they managed to lower the electronic gangplank, and as they reached the bottom and fanned out the car that had been following them pulled up nearby.

"Jason, Mark, go now. Find us those helicopters." The chief muttered to his officers, and they nodded, heading off towards the hangers with the twins in tow.

The chief lifted his pistol, pointing it at the car, and Barbara did the same with her shotgun. Jodie frowned at them both, stepping forward, her own gun resting against her hip. "You can come out, it's alright."

The car shifted and the doors opened, the occupants spilling out onto the pavement. A blonde woman in her mid-forties and two teenage boys climbed out, the two boys aiming handguns at the chief as the woman reached in and pulled out a baby, holding it against her shoulder.

"Don't shoot!" The woman called, stepping past the teens. "Please."

The chief stared at her for a long moment before he lowered his gun. Barbara did the same, and a moment later the two teenagers as well. "I'm Chief Mersel, Philly PD. Who are you?"

"Missy Gray," the woman brightened at the mention of the police. "These are my kids." She nodded to the three children.

"Are you alone?"

"No, my husband and his brother are in the back seat. They're both badly hurt." She shook her head, adjusting the baby in her arms.

The chief eyed them for a minute, then looked at Jodie and Barbara. Both women shrugged, so he turned back. "Come on then, we'll get them onto the ship."

It took Jason and Mark to push the door to the hanger open, the twins watching carefully. They were almost positive this was where the helicopters were kept.

The evening light spilled into the hanger, revealing the shadowy forms of three large helicopters. Mark let out a woop, moving towards them. "Thank god. We can use these to get those people out, easy."

"Well, we can use one of them, anyway." Jason followed, glancing behind to make sure the twins did as well. "You're the only one of us that can fly, remember?"

"Yeah, I guess. I could probably show you, then we could take-"Mark stopped dead, bringing his gun up and peering around. "Did you hear that?"

"What? No, I didn't hear anything," Jason frowned, bringing his own gun up as well. The twins darted over, standing nearby. Derrick still had his handgun, but the girl was unarmed.

"I'm sure I heard something. A footstep, maybe. It was definitely there." Mark turned a slow circle, gun held out.

"You did. You heard me." A deep voice echoed out of the shadows near the door, and they all spun around to see a large man with a rifle pointed at them. "Freeze."

He was at least 6'5, with coal-colored skin and dressed in a janitor's uniform. "Who are you?"

"We're with the Philadelphia Police," Mark and Jason leveled their guns at the man. "Put down your weapon."

"The police?" The man paused and a smile slipped onto his face. "Does that mean somebody's finally sent help? Been stuck here for hours." He lowered his gun.

Mark sighed. "No, not exactly. We need to take these helicopters. There are a lot of people trapped downtown."

"Damn it," the man sighed, peering out the door for a moment. Suddenly he seemed to remember something and looked back. "None of you have been bitten, right?"

"What? No...we haven't," Jason frowned. "Why?"

The man didn't answer, just stared at them for a long moment. "Come on. I'll take you to the others." The man twisted around and headed farther into the recesses of the building.

Jason and Mark glanced at each other, then started after him. The twins followed.

July 19th, 8:00 PM

The large man lead them through several more hangers to a large flight of stars guarded by two more men in janitor's clothing. Both were carrying shotguns, which they leveled at those approaching.

"It's me. And they're clean." The man called out and the others lowered their guns, nodding.

"Hey Rich, where'd you pick them up?" One of the men asked as Mark and Jason followed 'Rich' up the stairs.

"Found them in hanger C, I'll tell you about it later." He didn't pause, and they headed up the stairs and into the second floor of a large office building.

Rich lead them through a room where fifteen or so people were cleaning weapons and packing boxes with food, into a small office. Inside, three men were seated around a desk, talking quietly. The oldest, at least fifty, was dressed in a navel officers uniform, and seated next to him was another officer, much younger. The third man was dressed like the other janitors.

Rich shifted his gun onto his shoulder, "Sir, I found some people snooping around one of the hangers and-"

"Dad!" Jason and Mark found themselves shoved out of the way as the twins barreled into the room and dove towards the seated janitor.

"What in the...kids?" The man caught them, his chair tipping backwards until it bumped into the wall. "What are you _doing_ here? It isn't safe..."

Jason stared at the man, and now he could see the resemblance. Well, the kids had said their father worked here...it made sense.

"We, we were at the police station while mom was reporting the car stolen and everything...everything went wrong." Melissa spoke into her father shoulder.

People were recovering from their surprise, and the older man in the uniform turned to Jason and Mark, frowning. "Philadelphia PD, right? And the police station fell to those...zombies? Is the entire city like this?"

They nodded solemnly and the man let out a curse. "Damn it, then what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out fixing it?"

"We can't. Half the city is on fire," Jason shook his head. "We know where some survivors are waiting, and we came here to get helicopters so we could get them out."

"Survivors? Are you sure they are? Have they been bitten?" The younger officer asked suddenly, leaning forward in his seat.

"I...don't know. Why does that matter?" Jason stared at the officer.

"Because that's how it works! We figured it out a couple hours ago. If you're bitten, you change. You turn into a zombie. It takes a few hours, but it happens. Even if it is a little bite..." The man trailed off and sighed. "So, have they been?"

So that was how it worked...Jason ran the idea through his head for a moment. It was just like those awful slasher movies. "I don't know if they've been bitten, but we have to try and get them. We found some other survivors as we were flying here, too. They followed us in a car. And..." Jason trailed off and glanced at Mark, who was staring back at him in horror.

"If any of the people in that car were bitten...the chief doesn't know what'll happen!" Mark said quietly, shock in his voice. "We have to go back and warn him."

Jason nodded, turning to the two officers, "We need..."

"Go!" The older officer waved his hands quickly. "Go warn your friends. Where did you land?"

"On the aircraft carrier in the harbor," Jason called back as he twisted around and ran from the room, followed by Mark and the large man, Rich.

"We'll follow after you then, Hurry!" Both officers pushed to their feet and followed them out of the room.

Off to the side, the twins and their father sat talking softly.

Rick lead Mark and Jason back through the navel yard, the large man surprisingly agile as he slipped between crates and obstacles without even slowing down. They went back through the hangers and out onto the open square in the center of the complex. The aircraft carrier was across from them, and the car which had followed was still parked by the gangplank. Jodie was seated on the hood, a shotgun in her lap, and she waved when they appeared.

"Jodie!" Mark slid to a stop next to the car, panting for breath. "Where's the chief? Was anyone in that car hurt?" Rick and Jason came up behind him, guns held at the ready.

"What?" She stared at them for a moment. "The chief is up on the ship, and two of the people in the car were hurt pretty badly. They're all up on the top of the ship now. Who is that?" She pointed at Rick, but the three men were already running up onto the ship. Jodie frowned and climbed off the car, jogging after.

Jason reached the top first, and found the Chief and Barbara pulling bags off of the helicopter. On Against the edge of the ship the people from the car had taken up residence, the two teenagers watching the baby while the woman took care of the two injured men.

"Chief!" He called out, racing towards the helicopter. He slid to a stop, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Chief, you alright?"

"What? I'm fine, Jason. What's going on?" Rick and Mark caught up, Jodie following after. "Who is that person?"

"What? That's Rick. We found a bunch of survivors here. But that doesn't matter," Jason pursed his lips. "They know how it spreads! If the zombies bite you or kill you, then you turn into one! Which means..." He trailed off, shifting to look over at the small family.

The Chief frowned, eyes closing as he considered this. "Damn it," he muttered, rubbing his hands together. Eyes opened and looked pointedly at Rick. "You people are sure of this?" Rick just nodded in response.

Chief Mersel reached into the helicopter and picked up his gun. "It means we need to tell those people they can't stay here. At least, not with their injured family members." He took a deep breath. "I'll tell them."

The others nodded, stepping aside so the Chief could pass, then falling into step behind him. As they came up to the small family, Jason and Rick stepped to the side, their guns pointed at the two injured men.

"Ma'am," the Chief tipped his head to her politely. "We have a problem. I have just been informed of how the...zombies...are created. I have reason to believe your husband and brother have been infected. Have any of the rest of you been bitten?"

The uninjured members of the family were staring at him, and they slowly shook their heads. Both injured men appeared to be unconsciously. The mother, Missy, shook her head. "They aren't sick, though. Just hurt. They got hurt helping us, they can't be..."

"None-the-less, Mrs. Gray, I'm going to have to ask you to move them down to the docks. You may treat their injuries down there just as easily as up here. I can not afford to take any chances." The Chief shook his head.

Rick stepped forward suddenly. "It doesn't take long to happen, only a couple of hours. If they are still...alive...by midnight, they probably aren't going to change."

"You can't really mean..." The woman stared at the Chief, and he met her gaze evenly. "I...fine. We'll go down there. But you'll see, they'll be fine, and you'll have to let us back on here." She stood, taking the baby from her son, and the two teenagers carried the injured men back down the gangplank and into their car.

Rick turned to the others then, nodding. "You did the right thing. I'll stay with them until," he stopped speaking and took a breath. "Until they need me, I suppose." He followed the family down the ramp, leaving the group from the police department standing alone on top of the ship.

"Well, that was horrible." Barbara said softly, moving to the edge of the ship and staring down at the ground.

"We had to do it. If we're going to bring people back here, we can't risk the zombies being on board. Any luck with the helicopters?" The Chief started back towards their own helicopter.

"Well, we found them. The skeleton crew that maintains the docks seems to have survived, they might help us. They said they were going to follow us here." Jason followed after him, resting his shotgun on his shoulder. "If some of them can fly, we can probably do the whole thing in one trip."

"Alright, we'll do that. Barbara, see if you can raise Mickey again, tell him what is going on, and-"He stopped as Jodie shoved away from the edge of the ship and came running back to them.

"Guys, there's like, twenty people coming towards the ship," She slid to a stop, putting out a hand to brace herself against the side of the helicopter. "A bunch of them are carrying boxes."

"Boxes?" Mark echoed, glancing towards the edge of the ship. "I wonder," he murmured, walking back to where Jodie had been standing, leaning against the metal railing as he peered down at the dock. The others followed curiously.

Coming out of the helicopter hanger was a slow procession of people, lead by the two Navel officers, the twins and their father. The other people that Jason and Mark had seen filling boxes were following them, some carrying those self-safe boxes, others armed, watching warily.

Rick saluted as they went by, the entire convoy passing by the car and up the gangplank. The two men Mark and Jason has passed when they went up the stairs into the former headquarters took up positions at the bottom of the plank, speaking quietly to Rick.

The chief moved away from the railing, heading over to the gangplank, the others following him. He nodded to the old officer when he climbed on board, and the old man smiled.

"Chief Mersel, it's been some time. Glad to see you're still alive." He offered out a hand to shake and the chief smiled in return, shaking it.

"Captain Kershill, I didn't know there would be an officer of your rank posted here." The chief drew his hand back, moving aside as the men and women carrying the boxes climbed up and past the captain, moving over to set them down nearby. "Are you moving in?"

"We started encountering the zombies last night, and by this morning we were trapped on the base. The ships seem to be the safest place, with only the one entrance, so we were planning to move here anyway. You're arrival simply pushed up our timetable." The twins and their father had remained at the bottom of the gangplank, and they came up now, the two young teenagers smiling broadly. "And these two insisted we come and help you."

The Chief nodded, glancing out at the helicopter hanger. "Well, if you are willing, we'd be greatful. I have two officers trapped in the natural history museum with about a hundred civilians. We can't get to them through the streets, so we're going to need the helicopters. And if any of your men know how to fly them..."

"We have three pilots, and they are already getting the helicopters ready," Captain Kershill grinned. "Think half an hour would be soon enough?"

The Chief looked stunned, then fixed an eye on the twins, who just smiled. "We told him what you wanted to do, Chief." Melissa smiled shyly. "I hope that was alright."

"It was perfect, Melissa. Just perfect." He turned back to the Captain. "Half an hour sounds just right, Captain. And we can figure out the rest of the details while we wait, yes?"

The captain nodded and clapped his hands together. "Yes, we can."

July 19th, 9:00 PM

It was decided that the aircraft carrier would be used as a base, so that if the zombies did decide to attack the navel yard in force, the gangplank could be withdrawn and they would be effectively protected. Several small groups were sent out to gather food and see if they could find any other survivors, as well as hopefully to find some sort of help.

Meanwhile, the four large transport helicopters had been ready, and Mark and Jason were seated on a box, watching quietly as the large machines were wheeled out of their hangers.

"You sure you can fly one of those?" Jason asked as he cleaned his pistol, the parts spread out around him in the box.

"No, not really," Mark shook his head. "I looked inside, and they're mostly like our helicopter. More buttons, though." He picked up the spring from Jason's gun, toying with it until the other officer grabbed it from him. "I'm almost positive I can do it, though."

Jason slipped the spring back into his weapon, eyeing the other man. "Maybe I'll fly with one of the Navy pilots," he grinned as he said it, a teasing lit to his voice.

"Oh take a risk, it'll be fun. I'll do tricks."

"Oh joy," Jason just shook his head as he finished reassembling his weapon and checked the sight. "How many bullets you got left, anyway?"

"On me? A couple of clips and a shotgun belt; I left my bag on the ship though. And the Chief won't let me take the grenade launcher."

Jason laughed, picking up his shotgun then and checking it over. "That is probably for the best, you know. We won't need one, and lord knows you shouldn't be allowed to carry one."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm a pillar of self control."

"A weak, broken pillar with no base."

"Be that as it may, I'm still a pillar."

"Right, anyway, I think I need to find a few more shotgun shells and-"Jason stopped talking as one of the pilots came jogging over.

"Everything is ready to go, sir," the man saluted, and Jason did so in return, after a moment. He wasn't sure exactly how the Chief had convinced these men to consider police officers their superiors, but he wasn't complaining.

"Alright, we'll be over there in a couple minutes," Jason stood up as the pilot headed back to the hanger. "Come on Mark."

Mark, his eyes suddenly hard and serious, nodded and followed.

Twenty minutes later the four choppers were in the air. Mark, Jason and the Jodie, who had insisted on coming along, were in one, the Chief was in a second with two men from the Navel yard, and each of the other helicopters held three of the people from the Navy Base.

The city was strangely quiet as they passed overhead. In the hour and a half they had been at the base, many of the fires had gone out, and any survivors that might have been wandering around seemed to have gone to ground.

The zombies, for the most part, were listless. The ones they passed were standing still, or shuffling slowly back and forth down the street. "Without anyone to attack, they don't seem to do much." Jodie commented, shaking her head. "I wonder why."

"They can't be that smart, Jodie. Probably like a plant or something, only reacting when something comes near them." Jason shifted in the co-pilots seat to peer back at the girl. "All the ones in the buildings are doing the same thing." He pointed out the window at a skyscraper they were passing. Through the large plate-glass windows, zombies could be seen standing in one spot, swaying slowly back and forth.

As the helicopter passed near one of the windows, all the zombies in the room seemed to shift suddenly, whirling around and charging the window. As Jodie and Jason watched, the former people slammed into the window, and their collective weight shattered the glass. Like lemmings, they charged out into the open air and whirled end over end towards the ground.

Jodie looked away, closing her eyes. "I just don't understand any of this."

"I don't think we can," With a shake of his head, Jason twisted back to Mark. "Hey, how're you holding up?"

"Fine, man; just fine. We'll be there in a couple minutes," the police pilot had taken to the helicopter quite easily, although he had been uncharacteristically silent.

With a nod, Jason settled back into his seat, staring out the windows. Moments later the helicopters flew out over the center square of the city, with the museum situated on the far side.

"Holy..." Mark leaned forward a bit, distracted from his flying as he stared down at the street. The square was jammed from end to end with the monsters, arms waving, bodies shifting. Jason heard a gasp from behind him as Jodie peered out the window as well. "There have to be at least ten thousand people down there." Mark whispered as he returned his gaze to flying.

Jason pushed himself out of his seat, moving back towards Jodie, who was plastered to the window, staring down at the crowd. "Maybe you shouldn't look down there." He said as he passed.

"I can't help it. Look at them all. I probably knew some of them, went to school with some of them..." She trailed off, fingers flexing against the glass.

"Then you really shouldn't look down there. You'll just get upset and we can't afford to have anyon-"He trailed off as Jodie half-stood in her seat, shouting.

"Look! There are people on top of that statue!" She tapped the glass. Jason wondered why the girl kept being the one to spot survivors, but then shook it off and moved to the window behind her to look.

Two people were seated on the shoulders of one of the statues scattered around the square. They were waving their arms desperately as the helicopters passed overhead.

"Mark!" Jason pushed away from the window.

"I see them. Get a rope and I'll hover above them." Mark called back, pulling up his radio and calling to the other helicopters, telling them to go ahead.

Jason nodded, heading into the back of the vehicle and digging around for the rope ladder. He yanked it out and stumbled a step, almost falling into Jodie, who had come up behind him.

"I can help," the teenager said, reaching out to catch his shoulders and keep him from falling. Jason stared at her for a moment.

"Alright, if you insist; there should be a pair of belts attached to the floor. Find them, and put one on." He dragged the rope ladder over to the large sliding down, attaching it to the hooks on the floor. Jodie came up and handed him the end of the second belt, which he snapped around his waist. Both belts were attached to the floor with heavy-duty wire, in case one of them fell out while the door was open.

"When I tell you, pull that lever there and the door will slide open." Jason pointed to a large iron lever against the edge of the sliding door and Jodie nodded, moving over to it. "And make sure you don't fall out!"

"I wasn't planning on it," Jodie grinned, her face a mask of nervous confusion.

"Jason! We're over them." Mark shouted back, and Jason gripped the ladder tighter, nodding to Jodie. She yanked backwards on the lever, almost falling, and the door swung open, the room was filled with wind, and Jason felt like he was going to be ripped from the floor and sucked out the window. He closed his eyes and checked his balance before stepping forward and tossing the ladder out into the evening air.

The low, deep moan that echoed from the crowd was audible even over the whirring of the helicopter blades, but Jason tried to ignore it, keeping his gaze on the two people who were now trying to stand. The ladder unrolled completely, hanging five or so feet above their heads.

"Mark! Take her down another couple of feet!" Jason shouted over the wind, unsure if his partner had heard him. After a moment the helicopter dropped down the rest of the way and the ladder swung into reach of the two people.

Now that they were closer, he could tell it was a young man and woman sitting on the statue. As the ladder swung to them the man reached out and grabbed it, steadying it, and then moving back so the woman could start to climb up.

Once she was several rungs up, the man started up as well, and the ladder swung out away from the statue, into the crowd. Jason frowned and Jodie instinctively reached forward. The ladder was swinging two or three feet above the swarming mass of undead, their festering arms grasping desperately for it.

"Up! Take her up!" Jason shouted desperately, leaning down to grab the edge of the ladder and haul on it. Jodie did the same at the other side, but ended up grabbing onto Jason as the helicopter rose suddenly and she was nearly pitched out.

The ladder swung up and away from the crowd, but not before one of the creatures had hooked an arm through it. As the two people climbed desperately, the zombie hung there like a grotesque puppet, legs treading uselessly through the air.

"Get a knife!" He pushed Jodie farther back into the helicopter, towards the supplies they had brought. "And tell Mark what's going on!" He leaned out the side to try and steady the ladder as the girl nodded and ran towards the cockpit.

The people were halfway up, climbing as best they could. Jason tried to imagine being stuck in there, swinging free from a ladder a hundred feet above a crowd of undead people that wanted to eat you. It was not a pleasant thought.

Jodie appeared next to him. "Mark says he can get rid of the zombie, but you have to get the people up here first." She was holding a heavy-duty combat knife in her left hand.

"If he can't, we'll have to cut the ladder. Put the knife over there and make a space, I'm going to yank them in when they're close enough." Jason waved her away, leaning out again. The woman was five or so feet below him, looking up, her blue eyes filled with terror. Blonde hair whipping in the wind, pale skin, she'd have been beautiful in a different situation. Jason waved at her. "Come on! Just a little more!" She nodded at him and reached up another rung.

The man behind her was climbing faster, and seemed frustrated at her progress, staring up at the helicopter. Jason was afraid he was going to try to go around her, which would have probably sent them both tumbling to the ground. Jason couldn't really blame him though, not with the creature hanging beneath them.

A few moments later, two more rungs up, and Jason reached out to grab the woman by the arm. She stared up at him, surprised, and he found she was lighter than she looked, so he reached out to grab her other, hauling her up bodily and forcing her past him to roll into the far wall with a grunt of surprise.

The man practically ran up the ladder then, grabbing at Jason and the edge of the door and yanking himself inside, sliding to a stop in the center of the helicopter.

"Jodie was beside him again, pulling him away from the door. "Mark says to brace yourself, he's going to try something." Jason nodded, climbing to his feet and moving towards the window curiously, grabbing onto a chair as the helicopter banked left.

He shifted as Jodie pulled the two people away from the door and pushed them into seats, just in time since the bank would have probably dumped them right back out again. The helicopter shot over the crowd, the zombie swinging along behind like a kite. Jason shifted and unhooked the safety belt, pulling himself past the people and into the cockpit, dropping down into the co-pilot's seat again.

"What are you going to do?" He asked, eyes wide. The buildings were flying past as the helicopter turned.

"Just watch," Mark grinned broadly enough to make Jason nervous, and the helicopter smoothed out, heading straight for the building next to the museum. Jason could make out the other three helicopters, two hovering above the building and another slowly setting down on the roof. He thought he could make out the Chief preparing to climb out, and there were definitely people there.

But Mark headed on for the building next to it, and Jason frowned...then sighed. As the helicopter flew over the building, the ladder did not. The zombie was smacked into the side, against the stone, and Jason would have sworn he heard the sick slap of skin and bone. As the ladder flapped free a moment later, it was devoid of corpse.

"Well, that was reckless." Jason commented, and Mark just laughed.

July 19th, 10:00 PM

Chief Mersel stood in the middle of the museum roof, directing the people that had come swarming out of the building onto the helicopters. He stopped several who seemed to be injured, asking them to move over to the side, using his authority to avoid answering questions. It wasn't a tactic he was fond of, but he couldn't help it.

Two men had met them when they landed, telling them that seventy-nine people were trapped on the second floor of the museum. They had blocked access to the floor, but weren't sure how long it would be till the creatures found another way up.

Mersel had told them to start bringing people up and filling the elevators. And had asked them to get Officer Mickey Hannigan, but so far the man had not emerged from downstairs.

The second helicopter was filled and took off into the air, turning around and starting back towards the base. The Chief watched as Mark swung his helicopter through the air and brought it down, Jason leaping out before the vehicle had even touched down.

"What the hell took you so long?" Mersel asked as Jason jogged over, followed by Jodie. The two men who had met the Chief began filing the next group of uninjured people into the helicopter.

"We found a pair of survivors sitting on top of that giant statue in the middle of the square," Jason pointed out over the roof of the museum. "Don't know how they got up there, but we swung around to pick them up.

"Were they bitten?" The Chief asked, his gaze drifting to where they had been telling the people who _had_ to go.

"No, both of them are clean. It's a good thing, too. I don't think we could have shoved them out of the helicopter, you know?" Jodie smiled weakly, her gaze following the Chief's. "Damn...must be at least twenty people. Are they _all_ bitten?"

Mersel nodded, his face stony. "And I don't know what to tell them. I was thinking of putting them all in the fourth helicopter, but I can't ask any of our pilots to fly it."

"So, see if any of them can. Or ask for a volunteer." Jason shrugged. "We can't just leave them. I'm gonna help Mark." The officer spun around and ran back to the helicopter. Jodie stared at the Chief for a few seconds, then reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "You'll figure something out," she offered him a little smile, then blinked. "Uh, Sir."

Mersel actually laughed, shrugging her hand away. "Go help the others." He smiled in return, turning away from her and pulling out his pistol. Damn it, where the hell was Mickey? The large man started towards the doors, which had been closed for the last several minutes. No one else had emerged from the museum, which Mersel wasn't sure how to interpret.

He reached out and yanked the door open, pointing his gun inside. Nothing, no people, not even any noise, just an empty stairwell and-

Wait.

The air seemed to prickle around him and he heard a teeth-wrenching shriek from below, followed by the dull thump of gunshots. Someone shouted, then more firing. Mersel frowned and moved down the stairs two at a time, shoving the heavy fire door at the bottom open and stepping out onto the third floor balcony.

And into chaos.

Mickey and three other men were standing ten feet away, herding a group of six survivors towards the stairs. Before them stood six giant mutated frog-men, One of them threw back it's head and let out another of the shrieks, and the four men stepped backwards.

"Get out of there!" The Chief shouted, bringing up his handgun and firing over their shoulders. As he watched one of the frog-things leapt forward, its arm swinging downwards like a scythe, leaping over the defenders heads and into the crowd of survivors, killing two instantly and injuring a third.

Mersel brought up his gun and figured into the creature, and it stumbled backwards but stayed standing, green-red blood oozing out of its chest. "RUN!" He shouted, and the three uninjured people made a break for the stairs, flying past him. The fourth tried to crawl towards Mersel, but the frog-thing stepped forward and stabbed it's claw through the man's back. He died without a sound. The Chief's next shot caught the creature in the eye and it collapsed backwards, twitching.

Mickey and the other three armed men were fighting off the rest of the frog-men, but as Mersel glanced over he saw one of them leap forward, decapitating the closest man. "Mickey, Run!" Mersel shouted, and the officer took three steps backwards, firing still, then twisted to run. A creature ran towards him but the Chief took a moment to aim, hitting it in the knee and sending it stumbling. The other two men were beginning to follow, but the Frog things seemed to realize they were losing their prey and the four remaining leapt as one, two each crashing into the men.

Mersel winced as they went down, firing another shot or two ineffectually into the frenzy, then turned and followed Mickey up the stairs, slamming the fire door behind him.

As they burst out onto the roof, the Chief let out a relieved sigh, slamming the second door behind him. Those things were big, but two fire doors would probably slow them down.

Most of the survivors seemed to have been moved out, except for the injured ones. Jodie and Jason were standing near their helicopter, talking to one of the men who had met the Chief when he arrived. Mickey was ahead of him, still running. He took several steps forward and turned around.

"Chief, I'm sorry. I didn't...we never saw them coming and..." The left side of the mans shirt and arm were soaked in blood, and the surprise Mersel felt at seeing it must have shown on his face, because Mickey glanced down at his shirt and frowned. "One of them caught me by surprised, slashed me up good. Didn't even feel it till...just now." Mickey actually sounded confused, staring at his injury. "It doesn't even hurt that much."

"You're in shock, Mickey, go sit down." Damn it, did one of those monsters turn you into a zombie, or just a bite? Had the Navy guys encountered one of them?

Mickey nodded, stumbling a few steps and suddenly collapsing. "Bloody hell," Mersel muttered, running over, Jason and Jodie coming from the other direction.

They all crouched down, Jason propping the injured officer up, but the man was already unconscious. "What happened?"

"Big...frog things, with claws and they could jump. One of them got Mickey in the side or the arm...I'm not sure." Mersel tried to examine his officers injury, but couldn't tell where shredded shirt ended and shredded skin began.

"Well, Mark's ready to take off. Should we move him with us? There's room for him." Jason glanced back towards the helicopter, as though checking, then back to the Chief.

"Yes, take him with you. I'll go with the injury helicopter," Officer and woman both broke into objections, but he silenced them with a glare. "Go! And call the other pilot. If he doesn't want to fly it, have him land before you leave and I'll fly it. I can get the stupid thing back to the ship."

Jason stared at the Chief for a long time, then nodded slowly. "Fine, sir. But be careful."

Mersel just nodded, stepping back. Jason and Jodie carried Mickey to the helicopter, loading him in and climbing after. A few moments later, the helicopter took off, leaving room for the fourth to land, and Mersel left out a relieved sigh.

He wouldn't have to fly after all. Thank god.

July 20th, 12:15 AM

Jodie, Mark, Jason and Barbara were seated on the deck of the aircraft carrier, staring out at the harbor. They had unloaded the last of the people from the third helicopter, including Mickey. The injured officer had been carried to the far end of ship and was being treated...and was under guard. Incase he changed, as Rick had put it.

The woman and her three children from earlier were back on board the ship, looking pale and avoiding everyone who tried to speak to them. They had been back on board when the helicopters had returned, and no one would say exactly what had happened. Even Rick had just shaken his head and walked away.

"They should be back by now," Barbara said, peering up at the sky. She'd run over to meet them when they'd returned, looking quite worried. She had only stayed behind because the Chief had insisted someone from the station be on the ship at all times.

"Well, some of those people were pretty injured. Maybe the pilot is taking it slow." Jason said, but didn't really even believe himself. Something had definitely gone wrong.

"Maybe," Barbara didn't sound convinced, and she pushed to her feet and walked over to the railing, leaning her elbows on the metal as she stared out into the city.

They all sat in silence, none willing to voice what they all were thinking, until the young Navel Officer came running out of the command area of the ship towards them, waving his arms.

"Guys! Come quickly, Chief Mersel is on the radio!" Barbara took off almost instantly, running towards the building. The others stood and followed.

"What did he say?" Jason asked the officer as they followed him.

"They're having problems. Some of the people with them...changed. It wasn't pretty, but Mersel and the pilot managed to lock themselves in the cockpit of the aircraft, and they are trying to figure out what to do."

When they arrived in the radio room, Barbara had already pushed the Navy man out of his seat and was messing with the radio. "Chief? Can you hear me?"

"Barbara? Look, we're not sure where to go from here. We're hovering over the entrance to the base now, and the pilot says we can hover for another hour or so. But everyone else is dead, or...walking dead. If you have any suggestions..."

Everyone stared at the radio, eyes wide.

When the Captain walked in five minutes later, they were standing around throwing suggestions at each other.

"What if he lands in the navy yard, we all surround the helicopter, and when the zombies come out we mow them down?" Mark suggested, pulling out his handgun as he did it.

"Too risky," the captain said, and everyone turned to stare at him. "You need to find an answer that doesn't bring those things into my base."

"Well, if you have any suggestions..." Jason offered, waving around. "We'd be happy to hear them."

The Captain just shook his head, "I'd almost be willing to suggest, if they have a shotgun, that they fly out over the bay and open the door. The zombies will rush them, but the gun could hold them back, yes?"

Jodie frowned, "and you thought _our_ idea was risky? They'll get killed!"

"Maybe, but otherwise they'll get killed anyway, right?" No one could argue with that. "So, we tell them to fly out over the bay and then try to clear themselves a path to the door. Then they leap out into the bay, and..."

"Wait, wait," Jason glanced over at Jodie and Mark. "We have them fly out into the bay, but they don't need to shoot anything."

"What?" There was a general murmur of confusion.

"Do you remember, when we flew past that office building? The zombies seemed to...sense us. And they threw themselves out the window trying to get to us. So if he flies the helicopter over the bay and near the edge of the ship, and we all stand there at the side..."

"Then, when the door opens, the zombies will throw themselves into the water trying to get us!" Mark grinned. "Of course!"

The captain looked skeptical. "They can't get close enough that the zombies could possibly fall onto the ship."

"They won't. We were a good twenty feet from them earlier and they still reacted to us. But we'll have to put a lot of people near the edge, so they'll lose interest in the Chief." Jason stood and turned to Barbara. "Tell the Chief! We'll be topside."

The redhead nodded, twisting back to the radio as Jason ran from the room, followed by Jodie and Mark. The Captain watched them go, looking surprised, then followed after them slowly.

As they ran to the deck, the three grabbed every person they could find and dragged them along, from Navy cleaning crew personel to the survivors of the museum. They all piled up onto the deck and were herded to the sea-side edge of the ship and told to 'stand still.' Jason, Mark and Jodie stood against the railing, waiting.

Minutes later they helicopter flew overhead, flying past and out into the bay, twisting around in a long arc. "Anyone know how many people the Chief had with him?" Jason asked, glancing around at the others.

"Twenty three, I think." Jodie said, pressing in closer to the officer as she made room for Barbara and the Captain, who had pushed their way through the crowd.

"So, we need to wait for twenty three corpses to dive into the sea," Mark deadpanned. The others just stared at him and laughed.

"Yeah, something like that." Barbara said through her laugher, but she fell silent and reached up to press the portable radio headphones closer to her ear.

"The Chief says he's ready," the helicopter swung in and around, coming up next to the ship, sideways and about twenty feet away. "They're going to open the door."

"Everyone! Make noise, talk, do whatever. Just be obvious!" The captain shouted to the crowd, and everyone started stamping their feet, talking loudly, and even singing.

As they watched, the helicopter door creaked and slid open, revealing a blood-spattered interior and the shadowy figures of several shambling zombies. The people became louder, shouting curses at the creatures and reassurances to the pilot. News of what they were doing traveled through the crowd, and more and more people shifted to taunting the zombies as if they were dogs.

At first, nothing happened, and while the crowd was growing louder the four survivors from the police station fell silent and stared, unblinking, into the helicopter.

"Come on," Barbara whispered, her knuckles white as she gripped the railing. Jodie reached out and placed her hand on the older woman's, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"It'll work. Just watch," Barbara nodded, trying to smile. As if lured by some magic in the girls words, the first zombie stumbled through the door of the helicopter, arms outstretched, face twisted in a grotesque mask, and tumbled down towards the water, arms cartwheeling wildly.

"Yes!" A shout went up from the crowd, but it was quieter, perhaps some of the people had known the man who had fallen. Barbara couldn't think about that, not while the Chief might still have a chance.

"Come on! Come this way you stupid...things!" She shouted, and Jodie joined in then, Jason and Mark a moment behind. Two more zombies stumbled out, fighting with each other for a chance to die first. And as if a dam had broken, they flooded out. Barbara tried to count, watching the bodies tumble into the sea.

"Twenty, twenty-one...twenty-two," she heard Mark whispering next to her. "Come on, one more..."

"I think that was Twenty-three, actually." Jason said, frowning. "I'm pretty sure I counted twenty-three."

"Well, give it another couple of minutes." Mark responded, shaking his head. "It was twenty-two."

So, they waited. The interior of the helicopter seemed empty, and for several minutes everyone stared, willing something to happen.

"...Chief, do you hear anything?" Barbara spoke suddenly into the portable radio, and then closed her eyes as she listened. "He says he doesn't hear anything, but that doesn't really mean anything." She sighed. "I think we should let them land."

Jason and Mark said nothing, looking over at the Captain. He met their gaze levely. "Fine, they can land. But it is on your head if something happens."

"Thank you!" Barbara grinned and started forcing her way through the crowd, talking into the radio. Jodie and the others following after. "Chief, you're free to land." She twisted around as she listened. "They are going to set down in the middle of the ground away from the ship, over there." She pointed over their heads, towards the gangplank.

"Well, let's go meet him, then." Jason smiled, giving her a little push, and they headed towards the gangplank, down to the ground.


	7. Interlude the Second

_The second interlude, which is the first New thing that has been written for this story in some time. Well, the second half is, anyway. The first part was written sometime in June. Anyway, in theory I will have a new chapter next week. Since I have been convinced to write more...despite the massive unreviewed nature of the story._

_PS: Those of you who DID review? You just rock. I was going to say 'Rock my socks' but...really...who says that?_

Kingdom Come: Interlude the Second

Several Months Ago

The door read 'VP: Research in Progress. DO NOT ENTER. Classification Alpha-seven clearance required.' And Sirius Arnold let his eyes trace over the words and smiled to himself. Last time he had been here, the sign had been different. It was...a refreshing change.

He put a hand over his mouth and nose as he shoved the large steel door open. The blast of smoke and the stench of burning copper came over him like a wave, and he took several slow breaths through his fingers before he drew his hand away.

The lab was massive, three stories high at its center, decorated in dim colors and kept cold enough to chill Arnold through the suit he wore. He pushed past the towering rows of vials and jars, past the severed limbs in formaldehyde, the skulls and eyes of so many failed experiments. Once, he'd have been thrilled. Each of those jars represented another step, another leap towards their goal.

But they were meaningless now, relics of an experiment completed and forgotten. He headed directly towards the center of the room, drawing his coat closed as the temperature dropped with each step. He had been in a rush, coming here as soon as he had arrived on the Ark, and had not thought to wear the warm close he usually would have.

But things were different this time.

The center of the lab was a massive square, sunken six feet into the floor. Along every wall of the square were computers, monitoring machines, testing stations, every conceivable tool the dozen or so scientists who worked there could need. And in the center was a large glass cylinder, ice frozen to the sides,

One of the scientists, dressed in a heavy fur coat, hurried over to Sirius as he walked down the steps into the square. "Sir, I'm glad you came. I have a report, and..."

"Wait a minute, Fernsworth," Sirius held up a hand to ward off the scientist. Head of the department, and perhaps as close as Sirius had ever found to someone who shared his vision, David Fernsworth was a genius. But at that moment, he was in the way.

As Sirius stepped past the man, he couldn't help but smile. Originally, everything umbrella had done was for bio-weaponry. They were good at it, too. The T-virus, and in theory the G-virus, were both marvelous weapons. In every test, they worked flawlessly. Containment was an issue, but not one that Sirius particularly cared about.

By the time containment was considered, his thoughts had moved on. Alexia had been the key. Alexia Ashford, her idiot twin and their demented father had presented Sirius with something he had never dreamed of.

The T-veronica virus; a virus capable of mutating a human being, giving them strength and power but allowing them to maintain their sanity...truly, it was a thing of beauty. A _flawed_ thing of beauty, but none-the-less...

So, Sirius had gotten the best of his scientists, two of whom had trained under William Birkin and the rest almost as smart as that failed genius had been, and he had presented them with the T-veronica, with the T and the G and everything else they had created. And he gave them an order.

_"Make it work," Sirius had said, standing before the assembled men. A combined collective intelligence that dwarfed almost every other lab in the world. "Make the virus work. Remove the flaws, remove the...problems, and make the virus perfect. Make it something I can use." _

They hadn't known the truth, of course. Not at first. Bio-weaponry, that is what it was supposed to be. Nothing like this. Only Fernsworth had figured it out, and once he had the scientist had doubled his efforts.

And they had succeeded! Sirius resisted the urge to run to the cylinder, but he allowed the broad smile to stretch across his face. They had harnessed the G, forced a stability in Alexia's ant virus, and even interlaced the T-virus's healing properties. They had created a perfect strain.

Fernsworth called it the V-Perfection virus. Sirius had frowned on that, but the man knew what he was talking about. And then, the two of them had met, and created their plan.

And here she was.

Inside the cylinder floated a young woman, perhaps sixteen years old. She was thin, with pale skin, long limbs and several feet of fire-red hair that trailed off into blonde at the tips. She had been in the tube for a month, grown from a pair of cells carefully chosen by Fernsworth, and if everything was accounted for she would be drawn out of the tube soon.

Sirius reached out and places his bare hand on the glass of the tube, ignoring the sharp pangs of cold that bit through his fingers. The cold had been the only condition they'd failed to remove from the T-veronica virus. The cold was still necessary to slow the development of the subject...of _her_...but soon it would not be, and she could be removed.

Sirius smiled and drew his hand back, wincing as his flesh tugged itself from the glass. _Cold enough to burn_ he thought silently. Inside the tube, the girl shifted, eyes moving behind pale eyelids, and Sirius suddenly wished the tube was gone, so he could reach out and rub her hair and calm her nightmares. She did not deserve nightmares. She was perfect...her sleep should be perfect.

"Sir? We really do need to talk." Fernsworth had come up behind him.

Sirius sighed and nodded, tearing his eyes away from the floating subject. No...the floating child; his child, brought into the world through his vision. "Fine. What is it?"

"I've received another package from Dr. Fernando, and I think you'll be pleased. If all goes well, she will be awake in a few weeks..." The two men turned and walked away from the tube, towards the edge of the square. The girl in the tube seemed to shift again, her body following the path of Sirius as he moved across the square. She floated a bit higher, but her eyes never opened.

The simple sign above the tube, where once had been written 'V-perfection Subject B-313' had been changed, in the last week, in expectation of Sirius's arrival. It read, in plain letters:

"VIVICA."

Baltimore-Washington International Airport

"Move it!" Ada shouted out to the people in front of her as they passed through the remains of the giant glass doors in the airport lobby. Once, these doors had allowed those waiting to pick up their relatives to watch the planes land, but now they were a twisted wreck, and the overturned fire truck sticking halfway out of the building indicated how it had happened.

Just before she would have gotten outside, Ada twisted around and dropped down onto one knee, and bringing her handgun up as she scanned the lobby. She didn't even notice the shards of glass that dug into her leg. At the far end of the lobby the Secret Service man, Devin something-or-other, and several police officers they had picked up on their way here were attempting to bar the main doors. "Idiots," she muttered under her breath, standing again. At least the lobby itself seemed devoid of the carriers.

None of this would have been going on if she'd insisted they leave as soon as she'd reached the white house. But she had humored Devin, helping him try to find some survivors, and they had. But by the time they had gotten back to her plane a hunter had managed to tear the fuel line trying to get to the pilot. Luckily the man was alive, and so they had set off for BWI with their small crew of survivors.

And now they were here, with a horde of the carriers hot on their heels and god-only-knew what else behind them. "Leave it!" She shouted at the men near the door, waving her handgun at them. "We have to go now." And with that she twisted around and ran out onto the tarmac, enjoying the sudden feel of the afternoon light on her face. It would have been a beautiful day, if not for...well, for everything.

A few seconds later Devin ran up next to her. "What the hell are you talking about? We need to secure the area, not rush off like a bunch of idiots." He half-yelled at her, and it took every ounce of Ada's concentration not to hit him with her gun.

"No, we have to secure _one _area," she held up a thin finger in front of his face. "Just one plane. That's the only area we need. We are not checking for more survivors, or waiting to see if anyone else got our radio message." Her hand dropped back down to her side and she sighed. "I'm sorry, but we just aren't. Now get the rest of your 'men' to set up a firing line around whichever plane Ernando says we can use."

Devin started to open his mouth to saying something and Ada's hand shot up to cover his lips. "No. Don't argue, just go deal with this. Now." She didn't wait for a response, just twisted around on her heel and headed towards the last place she'd seen her pilot.

When he didn't follow, she let out another little relieved sigh and stopped to check her clip again. She could deal with this. This wasn't nearly as stressful as Raccoon had been. Hell, she even had a damn pilot this time. But the hero thing was getting old.

_This was all so much more worthwhile when I got paid..._ She thought with a wry grin as she started moving again. A few moments later she came upon Ernando and the handful of survivors clustered around a 747.

"Are we set?" She called out to him, forcing her way through the small crowd. The Mexican man nodded, patting the side of the plane.

"It looks like they were refueling her when it all went to hell, Miss Wong. I need ten minutes to finish and we can go anywhere you wish." The man grinned, then pointed past her to where two of the survivors were pulling a large tube across the runway, with two more pushing a giant full barrel behind it.

"Ten minutes?" She frowned, glancing over her shoulder to where Devin and the other armed people were now standing, all of them with their weapons ready, watching the lobby. "Make it five." She said as she twisted back, and then she half-turned, waving her pistol at the others.

"Anybody that isn't helping, get in the plane. Ernando," she tapped him lightly. "Tell them what to do, and then get onboard. If things go to hell, you take off without us, alright?"

"But..." the Mexican man held up a hand to protest and Ada cut him off.

"No buts. You do it or you'll die just like us. Oh, and have some of them check the plane for carriers." She hoped there weren't any on there...it would be hell to deal with them once they were in the air, and they certainly didn't have time to deal with them now.

As if cued by her thoughts, there was the distant sound of shattering glass from inside the lobby and the men with Devin opened fire. "Five minutes." She growled at Ernando and then took off to help hold off the horde.

_Woo. Cliffhanger interlude! How mean of me. Next time: Claire/Leon stuff plus Anne/Rebecca stuff. Unless you guys want character specific stuff. The reviews of the last chapter being all philadephia people seem mixed. Some prefer it, some do not. (and none of these people telling me this through AIM and such bother to REVIEW the story...but oh well.) so..lemmie know. Next chapter could be all leon-claire, and the one after that all Anne-Rebecca stuff, and the one after that back to Philly...or I can keep going the way I am._


	8. Of Cleaning and Cliffhangers

Resident Evil: Kingdom Come

The Ashes of Paradise – Chapter 6

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."

– Eleanor Roosevelt

July 22nd, 1:45 PM.

"Get down!" Leon spun around, his gaze locked on Claire as he shouted, watching her dive instinctively to the ground, trusting that he knew what he was doing. He would have smiled if his mind hadn't been caught up in shooting, bullets catching the hunter that had leapt towards his partner in the chest, the hip and the eye. It spun grotesquely through the air, limbs flailing, before slamming into a nearby overturned bus with a crunch and dropping to the ground.

He turned slowly, scanning the street around them, but it seemed no other monsters were forthcoming. "You alright?"

"A little bruised," Claire hauled herself to her feet, scooping up her shotgun as she went. "God, I'm lucky you saw that coming." She frowned, reaching up to tug irritably at her hair, her ponytail now a useless mass of uncontrolled hair. "They're normally so loud."

"I barely noticed it either," the former cop shook his head, steps carrying him over to Claire, eyes looking her over quickly for injury. "Just a shadow against the building, no noise at all. I thought they were supposed to scream."

"I'm fine," Claire waved Leon away, turning to peer out into the city. "And they do. It's…frightening. More like a scream of pain than anything else. But I don't remember them ever attacking without screaming."

"Well…what's one more piece of bad news, huh?" Leon couldn't help but smile tired. "You want to just pack it in? We could find somewhere to hole up, call Liz and the others. Half the city still has power."

"I don't know. You heard that broadcast earlier, there are survivors near the docks somewhere. If we can get there, we can help them. Or they can help us." The brunette let out a little sigh and crossed the ruined street, hauling herself up onto the top of a parked car, and from there onto the top of the overturned bus. "We came into the city after all, we can't just…cut and run."

Leon followed after her, and the two of them stood on top of the bus surveying the street. "If we go that way, and then hook down Broad, it should take us towards the navy docks. I think." Leon had lost the map during their first run in with a group of zombies when they'd entered the city. "I think we should try to hotwire a car though."

Claire laughed softly. "Oh yeah, we'll just hot-wire a car like in the movies. Push the two wires together and vroom." She waved her hand vaguely in the air before pausing. "…Does that really work?"

Leon's eyes sparkled, eyebrows rising jokingly. "Couldn't hurt to try.

Fifteen minutes later found the two of them sitting in the front seat of an ancient looking Cadillac, Claire stretched across the middle of the car with her head under the steering wheel, head resting on Leon's shin as she peered at a large clump of wires.

"Hollywood needs to be more specific. Everyone always knows _which_ two wires to cross. There's like, eight of them." She sighed, tugging her knife off her shoulder and poking at the clump irritably.

"Try the green one," Leon offered helpfully, humming to himself as he stared out at the street. A pair of carriers had shuffled into view a few minutes before, but seemed content to stay fairly far away. "Or the red one."

"Why?" Claire turned her head to peer up at the former cop through the steering column.

"It's always one or the other. Or sometimes both," he grinned down at her. "And we better hurry. Our two friends at the end of the street just got some company."

"I'm not even sure there _is_ a green one," Claire sighed, sticking her knife between her teeth as she used both hands to begin separating the wires.

As Leon watched the zombies draw closer and closer, he checked over the clips in each of their guns, swapping out half-empty ones for full. They would have to stop somewhere and just reload everything at some point, but for now that would have to do.

"Arwight, wred and gween…" There was a click, a grinding noise, and a moment later the engine burst to life, prompting a squeal from Claire as she crawled back out onto her own seat, tucking her knife back into her shoulder-sheath.

"That really shouldn't have worked," she shook her head, a grin on her face as she buckled her belt.

"Shh. Don't jinx it." Leon put the car in gear and headed off, plowing through several of the carriers on their way.

July 21st 9:45 AM

Rebecca was perched on the hood of the camper, her knees tugged up against her chest, arms folded on top of them, chin on her arms as she stared at the nearby town of Insbruck. She'd been watching the town for almost an hour now, watching the carriers shuffling aimlessly back and forth between the buildings.

"What are you looking at?"

She glanced up as Carlos settled onto the hood next to her, a pleasant smile on his tAnnad features and a worn look in his eyes. He'd been supervising the search of all the houses on their route into town, a task that had taken almost two days now, and the signs of stress were showing.

"I'm counting." She smiled back and set her chin back on her arms. "It's not that accurate, but I think I've counted one hundred and nine different zombies in town. Not counting the ones we've been seeing as we go." They had been leaving carriers that were trapped in their houses alone. Carlos had pointed out that it seemed wrong to break in just to kill them when they couldn't hurt anyone.

"You can tell them all apart?" He sounded surprised, turning his own gaze to the town. "I don't know how you do that."

"Photographic memory. I just remember the clothing each one is wearing." She shrugged and tilted her head to the side. "One hundred and ten…that doesn't make any sense," the young medic sighed.

"Why not?" The south American turned to study her face, watching her expression.

"The town has, what, six buildings? None of them are more than two stories high. There is no reason for more than maybe twenty people to be working there. Even if you throw in another forty for visitors, you still can't account for the other fifty. It's too many people."

"So?" Carlos stared at the town as well, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what Rebecca was seeing. "What does it matter how many people are in town? Maybe there was a bus tour or something."

"Maybe," Rebecca didn't seem convinced. She sat up straight suddenly and twisted around, peering into the camper where Anna and Tandy were seated in the front seat talking. She rapped on the windshield, offering them a smile when they looked up.

"Hey, did either of your parents work for Umbrella?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"Did they ever walk to work?"

"Uhm…sometimes…though not that much," Anna shrugged. "Dad would sometimes, if Mom drove in early. Why?"

"Don't worry about it." Rebecca offered the two children another smile before she turned back to stare out at Insbruk again. Carlos did the same, both of them counting zombies to themselves.

"…You think the Umbrella facility we're looking for is in the town, don't you?" He finally asked, a little smirk on his face. "You could've just _said_ that."

"Well, sure, but where's the fun in that?" The young woman grinned and pushed off the front of the camper. "Our best bet is under the bank, or possibly under the real estate firm. They are the two newest buildings in the city."

Carlos gave a little sigh as he stepped down as well. "Which means you want to clear out the town so we can look." He shook his head, tugging his walkie talking off his belt. "I'll call in the troops, but this is gonna take a while."

"It'll be worth it. I hope."

July 22nd, 2:35 PM

"Found one!"

Claire tumbled forward from the back seat of the car into the front, a city map clenched tightly in her hand and a triumphant grin on her face. She took a couple seconds to settle back into her seat before unfolding the map in her lap.

"So which way?" Leon stopped the car in the middle of the street, which made him feel rather strange despite the fact that he knew nothing was going to come driving down it.

"Uhm," Claire traced her finger along the streets of the map, a puzzled expression on her face. "If we go along this street and then turn here we could go under the highway and end up somewhere near the docks. Or…or we could go straight through the center of the city, there's a couple big streets but we don't know how wrecked they are." She sunk into her chair and shrugged. "Your call."

The former cop turned his gaze out to the street in front of them, a frown settling onto his features. The good mood he'd felt when they'd hot-wired the car and heard about other survivors had been sucked away by the devestation of the city. Philadelphia was bigger and had more people in it than St. Louis…but it didn't look like any more people had survived here. Which meant a lot more were dead.

"We're near the center of the city now, so we could just cut across. We can always climb over stuff and hot-wire other cars." He finally decided, putting the car back into gear and starting forward.

"Oh yeah, because we're such criminal masterminds now," his companion gave a little smirk, reaching up to mess with her hair. "I'm pretty sure this one was a fluke, hon."

"Maybe…" Outside of the car, the number of carriers seemed to be increasing with each block they passed. Before they had scene four or five scattered amongst the broken cars and burning buildings, but now he was hard pressed to find a spot that wasn't occupied by a shuffling, half-broken figure. It was starting to worry him.

He brought the car to a stop a block from the center of town, watching a group of zombies stumble by on the other side of a pair of parked cars. "Maybe this was a bad idea. There are a lot more here."

Claire had her gaze glued to the other side of the street, where a group of zombies were feeding on a fallen corpse. She nodded slowly in agreement and turned to look at him. "I think maybe you're right. If they were drawn to the center of town somehow." She resisted the urge to gulp. "There are a couple _million_ people in this city, Leon."

Leon just nodded in response, staring out the window. "And even if only a tenth of them changed…yeah. This is a bad idea."

As if queued by his words, a strange moan went up from the zombies and the few that were near them seemed to surge forward, slamming themselves into the parked cars and benches between them and the two survivors. Which wouldn't have been a problem had the far end of the street not suddenly been flooded with carriers from somewhere out of sight. They roared around the corner in a grotesque mockery of a marathon, arms stretched out.

And every single glazed eye was fixed on them.

Claire tensed in her seat, hands clenching at the leather. "Oh hell."

July 22nd, 11:45 AM

Rebecca felt a sort of strange, guilty pleasure at watching the last two carriers in Insbruk collapse to the ground outside of the bank, their limbs twitching as what remained of their brains realized they were dead. It had taken the entire armed portion of their group, working in shifts, more than a day to finish the job. But it was done. They could explore in peace, find the lab, pick up supplies, and maybe even relax, if only a little.

"We can't relax," Carlos came up next to her, his rifle resting loosely on his arm. "I mean, we don't know if the ones outside of town are gonna come here." Rebecca just rolled her eyes at him, reaching up to brush her hair out of her eyes.

"Spoilsport," she headed over to a bench nearby. "I was looking forward to a shower." Her tired muscles forced an involuntary groan as she settled onto the wooden seat, her pistol resting on her knee, her head staring up at the cloudy sky.

"Well, I figured we can all do that…just in shifts." He turned around to watch the convoy pull into the town, half a dozen RV's and another dozen cars and trucks, all stopping wherever they wished. "It's not like we're lacking in help."

"Yeah, I know. I wish we'd picked up some more people here, though. If we had found someone who worked in the lab, we wouldn't have to pick our way over the town to find it. We could just…walk in."

"Yeah, well, nothing is ever easy for us, you know." Carlos climbed onto the bench and sat down on the back, his boots tapping quietly on the wooden slats of the seat. "But I think I found the lab. There's a keypad in the back of the bank sitting against a rather boring white wall. I bet the wall is one of those secret passages Umbrella loves so much."

Rebecca sat bolt upright and frowned at him. "Why didn't you tell me?" She started to push herself to her feet but found the Hispanic mans hand on her shoulder.

"Because you need to rest before we go down there, and it's not like the lab is going anywhere. If it's like the others there are gonna be things worse that zombies. We really do need to be awake and alert and you're not."

Rebecca seemed ready to argue, but he fixed her with a look and she just sank back into her seat and sighed. "Fine. I'll get a shower and a couple hours of sleep and then we go. No more than three, I don't want to go down there when it's night."

"Go where?" Anna and Tandy had come up from their RV, the first looking quite curious and the second glancing around nervously.

Rebecca peered up at Carlos for a moment, unsure what to tell the children, but he just shrugged, so she turned back. "We think we found where your parents worked, Anna, and we're going to go and see what went on there," she said quietly. "We think that might be where all this started. At least, around here."

"Oh," Anna just sort of nodded, glancing around the town. "I never came to work with them…but…" She frowned. "I don't know. It _is_ hidden, isn't it?" She looked like she was caught somewhere between laughing and crying. "Do you think they are still down there?"

"We don't know, Anna. We're going to go look this afternoon. We'll tell you what we find, okay?"

"Can we come with you?" The young girl smiled hopefully, almost desperately, and for a second Rebecca almost wanted to let her go. If her parents were down there, she'd see them. And if they were dead…well…

"No." Carlos answered before Rebecca could even find the words. "It's just too dangerous, I'm sorry." His accent seemed unusually thick right at that moment, and Anna just nodded in response. A moment later the two children were back inside the RV, leaving the two would-be heroes sitting on their bench.

"Her parents are dead," Rebecca said finally, softly. "I'm sure of it. The virus is a gas at first…unless for some reason they were wearing gasmasks, or just left…they're dead."

Carlos just nodded.

July 22nd, 2:45 PM

Leon silently cursed as he tried to turn the massive car around in the narrow street. Picking a big car had been sort of a joke, at the time, and now they were going to pay for it. He swung the front around, knocking over a single zombie that had squeezed between the parked cars, and then wincing as he dragged the front bumper across the side of a parked SUV.

"There are more behind us," Claire said in a remarkably off-handed manner, staring out the passenger side window. The horde of zombies that had appeared at one end of the street had apparently not been alone, as a second wave was slowly forming at the other.

Leon spared a second to check the far end of the street and immediately regretted it. While there were not as many as in front of them, it was still a frightening prospect. Even in Raccoon, the former cop had never seen that many carriers in a single place. "We'll have to go through them." Leon said, shifting into reverse and slamming the car backwards, forcing a second parked vehicle onto the curb. The little bit of extra room was all he needed, and he shifted back into drive and sent the car lurching back the way they had come.

The car plowed through the oncoming zombies, the vehicle rattling under the impacts. One of the carriers rolled over the hood, crashing into the windshield and shattering the passenger side, sending spideweb-like cracks through the glass before the corpse rolled over the roof and off the back.

A few seconds later and they were through the crowd, the car limping out into the clear street behind the carriers. Despite the bulk of the vehicle, crashing through that many solid bodies had been bad for it, and it was obviously on its last legs. "If it breaks down here, we're dead." Claire said, pressing both hands against the dashboard as though to will the car forward.

"It won't. It won't break down." Leon pressed down a bit more on the gas, urging the vehicle down the street, glancing in the mirror every few seconds to check the progress of the crowd. The carriers were following them, but not with any significant speed.

One block…the engine started to smoke, tendrils of grey cloud forcing their way out through the edges of the hood. Two blocks, the smoke got darker. "I think the engine is on fire." He said, glancing over at Claire for a moment.

She said nothing, and the car kept moving. Three blocks and the engine kicked, loudly, the entire car vibrating. Four blocks…five…

The engine failed, the car shaking around them. Leon tugged his feet off the peddles and let inertia carry them another block before the car came to a halt.

For five seconds, the two of them said nothing, just sat there staring at the smoking front of the car, listening to their collective breathing, fingers clenched tightly around their weapons.

"We need to go," Claire whispered, her eyes glued to the rearview mirror. The carrier horde was out of sight, but it was only a matter of time before they caught up. And if the two survivors wanted to continue to _be_ survivors, they needed to be somewhere else.

Without another word they grabbed their supplies and slid from the car, checked the area quickly before moving ahead of the car, and forced their way through the cloud of smoke, out into the clear air further up the street.

And stopped dead.

Standing in the intersection, perhaps twenty yards away, three hunters were silently watching them. The long, curved claws that replaced the beast's fingers were curling and uncurling slowly, their bodies swaying like some grotesque line dance. It was all Leon could do not to scream in surprise. It made no sense…the monsters were almost acting coordinated. But it had to be random chance…the hunters were just as likely to kill a zombie as a person…they couldn't possibly have organized with the mindless horde.

But that didn't make them any less deadly. Or make Claire and himself any less dead. He slowly reached into his belt and tugged out his revolver, hoping the added kick of the weapon might make him enough of a distraction that Claire could get away.

"When I say…run back the way we came," he whispered over to the brunette, never taking his eyes off the monsters. "The zombies shouldn't have caught up…if you cut across a couple blocks and head this way again, you may be able to get away."

"What about you?" She turned her green eyes to stare at him, her face a mask of surprise and fear. "I can't…"

"Yes you can! One of us has to get away, we're the only ones that really know what's going on. You need to contact your brother. And I have a better chance of holding these things off than you do. So no argu-"

He trailed off as the three beasts suddenly screamed, the sound so loud that the cars of the windows closest to them buckled and shattered inward. Their muscles tensed, all three hunching over, ready to spring. Leon braced himself for the strike, half-closing his eyes as he resigned himself to what was coming. "Claire…now! Ru-"

He never finished the sentence.

_To Be Continued…_

(( Well, there ya go folks. This story is NOT dead, and I am working on it every chance I get. I promise that the next chapter will be up soon. At least, much much sooner than this was. I can't believe I let that go so long…Anyway, Read and Review!))


	9. Exploration and Discovery

_I'm not making promises anymore. Chapters will be up when they are up, when the spirit strikes me to write.. I'd like to think I'll write them more often, but honestly, I have no idea if I will. Hope people are still out there. So…yeah. Read and enjoy._

Chapter 7

"_It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change._

– _Charles Darwin_

July 22nd, 2:30 PM

Rebecca could feel her hands shaking as she stood in front of the barely noticeable panel-door hidden in the white wall of the bank. Once they had found the keypad, it had only taken a few minutes to find the door itself. But since the door was sealed, it stood to reason it had _been_ sealed for some time. And there was absolutely no telling what was behind it.

"Are you_ absolutely_ sure we want to do this?" Carlos was leaning against the wall next to the door, checking the clip on his rifle, but he stopped to look at her as he asked.

"No, not really." Rebecca shook her head slowly and readjusted her grip on her handgun. "I mean, we have to, but do I _want _to? If we open that door, there's no telling what could come out! I mean, it could be an elevator, or it could be a Tyrant!" She took a breath and tried to relax. "So no. But I'll open it anyway."

Carlos nodded, jamming his clip back into his gun and turned to face the door as Rebecca headed over to the keypad. They'd spent a good hour fiddling with it, but the end result had been simple…breaking it was more efficient than not. So they'd pulled the panel off the wall and gone to work on the wires.

And now, in theory, when Rebecca reconnected the last two settings on the rewired panel, the door would open. "Get ready." She said, her voice barely a whisper in the silence of the building. Carlos leveled his gun at the door, and Rebecca reached in and reconnected the last two wires.

The door dinged twice, soft, peaceful synthetic bell noises, and then the panel slide in half an inch and disappeared into the left section of wall. Carlos tensed, and Rebecca tugged out her handgun, pointing it at the opening as well, waiting for the inevitable rush of animated corpses and monsters.

Except nothing happened.

After a count of thirty, Carlos lowered his gun several inches. "Uhm…maybe there's nothing down there?" He asked, his voice suddenly nervous. The absence of enemy was somehow worse than its presence…at least, when it was there, you knew what was going on.

"I doubt it." Rebecca leaned forward to peer into the hole. A simple, well-lit staircase headed down and disappeared off to the left. "It could be that they were just…out already. The infection had to come from here, so…if they'd gotten gassed and not realized it, maybe…" the young medic trailed off and shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

Carlos nodded, shouldering his rifle long enough to pick up a black and green backpack that had been sitting nearby and hand it to the woman. "We should go now. We have an hour and twenty minutes before everyone else comes in after us."

"Right."

The staircase only went down for about twenty meters before it stopped at a steel-grey double-sided sliding metal door. Through a small window in the right side, the two heroes could see the laboratory. It looked clean, and empty. "Nicer looking than the last Umbrella lab I was in." Rebecca said quietly, before turning her attention to the keypad on the side wall.

"I don't think we can get in there just be shorting out the panel this time." She said, tapping her finger against her chin. "I'll probably have to use the laptop…and…hmm." She trailed off into silence, a puzzled expression settling onto her face.

"What is it?" Carlos was watching the lab through the window, but he turned to look at Rebecca instead.

"I'm…not sure." The medic took a step back from the blinking panel, then reached out and pushed the 'confirm' button. And the doors slid open, causing Carlos to jump backwards in surprise, bringing his rifle to bear on the empty corridor.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Rebecca shook her head quickly, leaning in to peer around the edge of the door. The hallway was empty, clean, and completely silent. No shuffling footsteps, no distant, heart-wrenching and blood-curdling moans. Just…silence. "It was already unlocked."

"Yeah…I don't like that." Carlos finally decided quietly, but then he held his rifle out before him and started into the hallway. His boots echoed on the white and black steel, but other than that, the hallway was dead silent.

"I don't hear anything." Rebecca said as she followed him in, her own pistol held in a comfortable-alert position at her side. "Maybe there really isn't anything here."

"Don't say that, you'll jinx us." Carlos glanced back at her, a grin on his face. "We'll just keep assuming there _is_ something here. It's safer."

"Right."

The hallway ended at a T-junction, with more hallways shooting off in two directions, but the door at the far south was locked, the small readout on the touchpad blinking 'Override Lockdown Secure' over and over. So they went the other way. Rebecca followed Carlos through two more empty, immaculately clean hallways, and then finally into a small security room.

A giant TV lined the far wall, its display divided up into a dozen small images, obviously monitoring the entire lab. An ancient looking rolling office chair sat in front of the TV's, and there was a half-eaten donut on the panel, and a battered looking bed with a pile of dirty laundry resting on top of it.

"Whoever worked in here was obviously not part of the obsessive cleaning department like out there." Carlos said as he made a quick search of the room. Content that nothing else was in there with them, he closed the door to the hallway and dragged the bed over to block it. Just to be safe. "What now?"

"Now…we see what we can see," Rebecca grinned, using the back of her gun to brush the half-eaten donut and the rest of the trash off the security console and into a nearby, half-full trashcan, and then settled down into the chair, her eyes flicking from panel to panel.

A few quick selections and the large screen went from displaying dozens of images to one large image of the room they were in. "They monitor themselves!" Rebecca said, quite surprised. Typically security rooms had awful security. Quickly she began flicking through camera images.

Empty hallway, empty hallway, empty research lab, empty hallway, a massive underground garage, empty hallway… "Oh."

"I found the…people." She said softly, staring up at the monitor. On the screen was what looked like a large white and black conference room. In the center, shambling in a slow circle was a zombie dressed in full police combat armor, a pistol hanging uselessly from his left hand. And around him was a sea of corpses, some in the white coats of lab techs, others in the same full-body armor as the zombie. She had known no one could be alive down here…but seeing it right out in front of her was not the most pleasant thing in the world.

"Are they all dead?" Carlos asked, standing behind her chair. "Shouldn't they be zombies?"

"I don't know…I've seen zombies just…lay there, but never so many in such a small space." Rebecca pressed a few keys on the security terminal. "Maybe if we can see what happened. This system looks fancy enough to back everything up…Damn it."

"What?"

"They do back everything up, but the system automatically copies them to some tape backup system. Which I cannot access from here." Rebecca growled at the keyboard, tapping a few more keys. "Maybe I can find out where it is…"

Carlos nodded, then continued looking up at the monitor as Rebecca searched. The lone zombie was still walking in a slow circle, eyes lifeless and grey, as though it simply didn't know where to go. The rest of the corpses were perfectly still…Carlos suspected they would move, that they were zombies, but…he'd never really seen zombies lay quite that still. There was always _some_ basic movement.

"Found it. It's in room A-14, looks like some sort of data center…which is…Uhm" Rebecca brought a large black and white map up onto the screen. "We're here…so A-14 is…here." She leaned up on her tiptoes and tapped a room about halfway across the compound.

"What room is that zombie in?" Carlos asked, resting his rifle on his shoulder again. "Can we just go around it?"

"The zombie is in room…A-9, so…No. We can't get to that side of the lab without going through A-9. It looks like some sort of commissary…maybe it was a large lounge?"

"Doesn't matter now. Let's go."

July 22nd, 3:15 PM

A single bullet to the temple sent the lone zombie tumbling to the ground, falling at awkward angles onto the closest corpse, like a terrible and unfortunate game of Jenga.

And nothing else in the room stirred.

"I guess they really are dead?" Rebecca said as she lowered her handgun, peering into the room. It had only taken them a few minutes to get to the commissary, as they had not encountered a single carrier or monster…and both intruders felt as though they were walking on pins and needles, waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop.

"…Maybe," Carlos didn't sound convinced…but he stepped into the room slowly, keeping his rifle trained on the nearest body. Finally, he adjusted his aim and fired a shot into the back of the corpse's leg…and it didn't even twitch. "Alright, that one is dead at least."

"I think they're all dead." Rebecca said. She had stepped inside after him, but her gaze was not on the floor, but on the walls. Blood splatters covered almost every surface of the white, occasionally punctuated by the small, caved-in traces of a bullet. "I think they were killed."

"Oh wow," Carlos eyed the splatter stains for a moment, then crouched down next to the corpse he had just shot. A quick check of the head indicated that it had indeed been shot, once in the temple, and a second time in the heart. "Yeah…this one was shot. Head shot…whoever did it knew how to take a carrier down fast."

"I don't think they were carriers." Rebecca had knelt down next to another body, and was lifting up the head to study the wound. "These people bled pretty…openly. And carriers tend to just congeal." She dropped the head back to the floor with a thud, and winced at the noise. "I'm betting they knew they were infected."

Carlos looked out at the room, considering the other corpses. "They probably realized it, and gathered here to try and figure out what to do. Once they realized they were too far gone…"

"Then they killed themselves. Except that last guy…maybe he was too far gone, didn't manage to stop himself before the change…" Rebecca pushed herself to her feet and shook her head slowly. "How horrible."

"Yeah, except that doesn't explain how the virus got out of the lab. Something must have gotten out and infected the people in the town." Carlos stood as well and started towards the opposite door, keeping his gun trained on each body as he stepped past it.

"I don't know. Maybe the camera's saw what happened. We can check when we get to the data center." Rebecca said as she followed after him. "At least this place is almost safe…I didn't see any trace of Umbrella's normal experiments on those monitors."

"Stop saying stuff like that!" Carlos said with a groan. "You're really going to jinx us."

The last few hallways between the commissary and the data center were in disarray, full of overturned chairs and the occasional piece of discarded clothing. Whatever it was that had kept the beginning of the lab so spotless was obviously not active here.

The data center was as empty of life and unlife as the other rooms, but two of the massive walls were covered with computer terminals and displays, each displaying a rotating Umbrella Logo screensaver. "Alright…give me a minute. I'll probably have to get pass some passwords to get in."

Rebecca slid into a chair in front of the closest terminal and cleared the screen. "Or maybe not…whoever was working here never logged out. That's…well, I guess that's understandable." Finding out you had a terminal zombie-inducing plague probably did not induce feelings of company loyalty and security. "Let me see what I can do."

As she worked, Carlos surveyed the rest of the room. Finally he picked out a small set of lockers most likely used by whoever was stuck in this room for eight hours a day, and pushed them in front of the door. Whether they had come across any of the creatures or not, the former mercenary was not going to take any chances. For all they knew, Umbrella had created invisible hunters by now.

"Alright, I've found the security footage…We know the zombies started appearing a couple days ago, so we should see…let's see…" She pressed several buttons and the large display in the center of the room flicked to life, showing the same set of displays as the first security room had shown. "I'll go back three days, then fast forward."

As they watched, scientists and a number of security guards could be seen working and moving about the compound at super-fast speed. For a while, everything seemed to be fine. And then out of the blue, in the northern lab, one of the researchers suddenly spun around and attacked a second.

"There! That's the first trace of the release." Rebecca paused the images, bringing the attack one up to full size. "But there wasn't any trace of a leak before that…no alarms, no warning, just…one minute fine, the next minute zombie."

"Hmm…look, don't worry about that now." Carlos leaned over and tapped a few keys. "We need to find out how the virus got out of-" the large monitor beeped and went blank. "Hey, what happened?"

"Don't touch!" Rebecca whacked the mercenary on the back of the hand and set about bringing the image back up, setting it back to the multi-screen view and then fast forwarding again. "Anna said her parents never came home from work the day before yesterday. So that would mean that virus had to be out of the compound by at _least_ that morning."

As they watched, the lab tech who had been attacked managed to beat the man who had bitten him backwards, and escaped out of the lab, locking it behind him. In fast forward he was caught by two security guards, and eventually there was a meeting of most of the staff in the commissary. Several of the people on the screen where showing significant signs of infection, and were separated from the rest of the group.

"Look!" Carlos pointed at a small screen in the upper right corner, and Rebecca brought it up to full. The image of the elevator they had arrived in was on the screen, where a young dark haired woman walked in a panicked circle, scratching at a large welt on her arm.

As they watched, the elevator opened and she ran out onto the staircase. Rebecca quickly switched to the last camera, and they watched as walked slowly up the stairs, rubbing at her forehead, and then disappeared out of view. "Well…that's how it got out." Rebecca said softly, staring at the empty footage of the stairwell as it continued to play.

"The poor woman probably panicked…didn't know what to do, so…she ran. There aren't any cameras out in the town, are there?" Some small part of Carlos wanted to see what happened, how far she made it…and the other was revolted by the thought of it.

"No. At least, if there are, I don't see any references to them here." Rebecca shook her head. "Here, you can look at this. I'm going to see what I can do with the computer system." Rebecca slid her chair over to the next terminal, allowing Carlos to settle in watching the security footage. "Oh, you better call topside and tell them we're fine." Rebecca said just before she started typing away.

July 22nd, 4:30 PM

An hour later, Rebecca was alone in the computer room, her eyes slightly bloodshot from staring at the screen. Carlos had left earlier, to meet a group of the people they were with who had insisted on coming down into the lab. Rebecca was sure it was safe, they had checked every room on the cameras, and while there were some rooms they couldn't get _into_, those rooms were empty, so it wasn't a concern. And the people had a right to be curious about what had caused this reaction.

So, while the others were exploring, Rebecca had set about finding her way into the data files on the system. From the looks of the tape, no one had thought to erase the hard drives before they had died. _Which was understandable…I wouldn't want to leave no trace why I had died either,_ she thought to herself.

It had taken the better part of the full hour to get through the security system, using a combination of tricks she'd picked up at school and blind luck at password guessing. _(The security guy had a picture on his desk of his daughter. Name on the back was Samantha, with her birthday. Sammy1219 had gotten Rebecca into the whole system.)_

And now Rebecca was staring at what she suspected was an almost complete research table of Umbrella. It was all there. The T, the G, something she had never heard of called the T-Veronica, the Progenitor, and a complete biological spectrum on something called the Nemesis organism, which she didn't think was a virus. Spectrum runs on all their creatures…_everything_. It was like going into a room to find your glasses and stumbling across a barrel of gold.

She rolled her chair back and grabbed at the backpack of supplies they'd dragged in her, nearly falling off her chair as she bent over and went digging through it. They'd never really let themselves hope that they might stumble across something like this…but just in case, just on the desperate off chance that they did, their was a portable hard drive in each of their bags.

The grey-black box was yanked out of the bag, and Rebecca turned back to the panel and stopped. Beneath the place where she had been sitting was a second, small panel, with two blinking red lights, a button and a sticker. A yellow and black sticker read 'Security Override' just beneath the two lights.

She had to resist the urge to just reach out and press the button, forcing herself to plug the hard-drive into the system. Years of experience had taught her that pressing buttons tended to make horrible things happen. So, before she did it _(And of course she was going to)_ she had to make sure she copied everything off these computers.

Five minutes later, the hard-drive was back in the bag, filled to capacity with every bit of Umbrella research and data that she could cram into it. She would have to sift through it all later, since she wasn't even sure what half of it was. But it was safe, which meant she could turn her attention to the button.

Some small part of her knew she probably shouldn't press it. That doing so would unleash something almost certainly bad. Of course, there was always the chance that pressing the button would reveal the answers to all of their problems. Perhaps a cure lurked behind that button, or some special anti-zombie weapon. Or even a vaccine! The possible _(if rationalize)_ benefits surely outweighed the apparent risks.

So, she finally reached out in one blurred motion, and pushed the button. And as she watched, the small security camera images stretched out across the center monitor shrunk and moved upwards, and at the bottom of the screen five more camera images appeared, each showing a room that had been absent a moment before.

Four the screens were quickly identified on the map…they were apparently rooms that were located behind several of the doors that Carlos had been unable to open earlier. The fifth, on the other hand, did not appear on the map. In fact, it took Rebecca several minutes of desperate searching to figure out exactly where it was accessible from. The room she was in!

She enlarged the image, studying it for a moment. It was a large lab, far more clutter than the other labs but almost exactly like them, except for the wall opposite the camera. Rebecca carefully studied that wall, her eyes getting wider and wider, and then picked up her walkie-talkie. "Carlos?"

There was a pause, and a crackle of static, before the other responded. "Yeah?"

"Get everyone out of the complex."

"What?"

"Get everyone out! Now! And then meet me back here."

"Uh…right. See you in a few."

Rebecca set the walkie-talkie down, and then tapped several keys on the panel. The screen split, leaving the hidden room image taking up a fourth, while the others spread themselves out over the available space. Rebecca watched Carlos herding everyone back out to the elevator, then finally let herself look at the laboratory again.

Against the back wall sat a massive clear tube, and floating inside the tube, in a blue-green stasis solution Rebecca had hoped she'd never see again, was a Tyrant.

July 22nd, 4:50 PM

It took Rebecca several minutes to find the doorway into the tyrant lab. It was a featureless grey panel hidden behind one of the security displays, and she'd had to override the access panel to get it to open. But now she was through, leaving the door open behind her as she stepped into the laboratory and looked around.

In contrast to the other immaculate, orderly labs, this one was cluttered with brief-cases, file-folders and laptops, each left as though the person last using was going to come back and start working again. _Maybe they thought they were?_

The medic reached out and picked up one of the manila folders as she walked towards the Tyrant, flipping it open and glancing down at it. It looked like standard inter-office paperwork, a simple note about…about…_Hmm…_

**To Dr. Weston, RE: Developments**

**We are pleased to hear of your progress, and have received the currently updated research as it was sent. Current development of vaccination goes as planned.**

**As per previous instructions, continue your research into UBC development of biologics. Maintain cover but ensure survival of information for Mother. We will monitor developments from BR central to determine course of action.**

**- Black Raven, 7/03**

**To Black Raven, RE: Developments**

**Cover maintained despite inspection from UBC headquarters. Further development of T-subject unnecessary, subject is being placed in quarantine within Lab B-14. T-Subject is clean. No programming, no mind. Request immediate removal of subject to pre-ordained location.**

**Inform Mother that we are suspicious of something major happening within UBC. Several contacts have gone missing, several projects have disappeared.**

_**Id: Cleansweep?**_

**Note: Dr's Fernando Called to UBC headquarters 7/17 to report on progress of stabilization virus. Will report more when information is received.**

**- Weston, 7/5**

**To Weston, RE: Removal**

**Team dispatched to remove T subject on 7/21. Expect arrival at 0300 at northern entrance. Subject will be moved to A51 per previous arrangements. Inform security detail of change.**

**Be careful of UBC involvement. NSA detected specific movements in company towards satellite labs. Strange incident at UBC. Uncertain cause…Ensure no discovery!**

**- Black Raven, 7/9**

**To Black Raven, RE: Infection**

**Illness spreading! Uncertain release, fear involvement with virus…no alarm, no alert. Send no assistance, all already infected…fear worst. T-subject put into internal stasis. Acquire when situation allows. T-Subject will sleep. No Hope. We are sorry. Stop them.**

**- Weston, 7/17**

_So the government knew!_ Rebecca stared at the last line of the memo. From the few obvious words, she was certain this must have been a government memo…which meant the US, or at least the NSA, knew what was going on with Umbrella. They were either trying to find a way to exploit it, or to find the evidence to stop it, when the virus was released. Knowing the government, it was probably exploiting…but none of it mattered now.

"Rebecca, what's going on? How did you get this…woah." Carlos had come jogging into the room behind her, but stopped dead when he saw the massive, sleeping tyrant, bringing his weapon to bear on the beast. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"I guess they made it. Don't worry, it's asleep." Rebecca said quietly, turning to study the creature again. It was far more advanced than the Tyrant's she had seen during the first outbreak. Its skin was a deep blue, its organs were all on the inside, and it looked…neater. Like all the little imperfections had been swept away, leaving only the…essence. The Tyrant.

"So what if it wakes up?" Carlos didn't seem any relieved, and kept his weapon pointed at the tube.

"I don't think it will. The government scientists put it to sleep before they killed themselves. Someone was supposed to come get it, but I guess they're dead too." Rebecca frowned, and then held the folder out to Carlos. "Here, look."

The Hispanic mercenary looked over at her for a moment, then back at the tyrant, before lowering his rifle and reaching out to take the folder, laying it out on a panel and flipping through the papers inside.

As he read, Rebecca turned away and walked in a slow circuit around the table, glancing through the readily available memos and notes. Most were related to the research, or occasionally inter-office politics, but when she reached the fax machine she found another sheet similar to those inside the folder.

**To Weston, RE: Infection**

**Viral release everywhere! Uncertain outcome, hope someone alive. Respond if possible. T-subject will remain. Closing off A51 until further determination can be made. Lost contact with NSA headquarters. Lost contact with BR outposts. Lost contact with foreign contacts. Fear absolute worst.**

**A51 uncompromised. If alive, contact.**

**- Black Raven, 7/20**

"What does it mean, exactly?" Carlos had come up behind her, reading over her shoulder. "The government knew about all this?"

"I think so." Rebecca walked past Carlos, over to the tyrant, peering up at it. "I don't know what their intentions were…but it's good news." She couldn't resist the urge to smile.

"How so?"

"It means there is at least one safe government complex." She held up the last fax she'd been reading, waving it towards him. "A51 almost has to mean Area 51. If it does, then those people are still alive. It means that there might be a workable vaccine, if we can get there." She shifted a bit, and peered up at the tyrant. "But most importantly…" She trailed off, and reached out to place her hand on the side of the tube.

"What?" Carlos prompted.

"It means we now possess a clean tyrant. The memo said it had no mind, no programming. It's…empty. And it's ours."

_To Be Continued!_

_((Next time, back to Leon, Claire and the others...if they're still alive, of course. Mwa ha ha!))_


	10. Interlude the Third

Interlude the third

Ada stared out the window of the passenger plane, her eyes half-open, watching the clouds pass beneath them. They'd made it out of DC…she wasn't sure how, they really shouldn't have…but they did. And now they were heading west…Urban Sprawl was suicide in this, they had to go somewhere empty…somewhere that Umbrella wouldn't have worried about. _If such a place even existed._ Sirius Arnold had been far too meticulous for Ada's tastes.

They small group of survivors was spread out, each sitting in a different spot on the plane. None of them had known each other before this had gone down, and none of them seemed interested in knowing each other now. Which was understandable…they needed time to come to terms with what had happened. Even Ada wasn't quite sure how to wrap her mind around 'the end of the world.'

Maybe things weren't as bad as she suspected. If it was only major cities, than millions of people would survive and once the virus faded they could…_Huh?_ Her leg was vibrating.

It took her several seconds to realize that it was her cell-phone, zippered into the flat pocket against her hip, that was actually vibrating. She'd forgotten she was even carrying the machine…after all, cell phone service seemed pretty unlikely, with the world ended. And the list of people who had her number was short, and probably growing shorter by the minute.

She stood up, suddenly glad she'd decided to sit in the back of the plane, and nearly dashed the few steps to the small bathroom, slipping inside and closing the door behind her. She yanked out her phone, staring at the caller-ID, which was blank, of course. And then flicked the vibrating phone open and brought it to her ear. "Hello."

"Hello Ada."

The voice was slick and to the point, with just the right amount of slime on every letter that she instantly knew who it was. "Wesker! I knew it was too much to hope that the end of the world somehow did you in."

"I'm touched by your concern, Ada. Where are you?" Straight and to the point, just like always. Ada had hoped to never hear from the man again…after the botch up at Raccoon, the two of them had not been on the best of terms.

"On a plane, I'm getting as far away from this mess as I can. What do you want?" She leaned back against the wall of the bathroom, letting her eyes close. She wasn't going to yell…her first outburst had probably already attracted attention, and she didn't need these people asking questions.

"Far away from this mess? Haven't you been paying attention, Ada? There is no 'far away' from this mess. As far as I can tell, every city with a popular greater than a thousand has been effected. Surely you didn't think there were places in this world that Umbrella couldn't reach?" Wesker actually sounded surprised, and Ada had to resist the grimace that had formed on her face. He was right…but she had hoped.

"There are places without cities, Wesker."

"Yes, there are. I am in one myself, actually." There was a pause. "I have secured a small, safe place in northern Montana. It has a landing strip, you should come here. I am certain we have much to…_discuss_."

"As though I would trust you, Wesker." Ada rolled her eyes, pushing herself into a standing position. "You're slime, and you'll always be slime."

"Yes…but I am slime with a safe, secure place to live, free of the zombies and the monsters, and almost entirely self-sustaining. I will text the coordinates to you. Come…or don't come. The choice is yours." With a click, he was gone, and Ada found herself staring at her now-blank phone, her mind whirling. She couldn't go to Wesker…that was like walking into a snake pit. _But…_

With a beep, a text-message appeared on her phone, displaying a list of longitude and latitude numbers.

She took a breath and reached out, shoving the bathroom door back open and stalking down the aisle to the cockpit, leaning inside and tossing the cell-phone to her pilot, Ernando. "Change heading." She said, then turned to face the other occupants of the plane.

It was obvious they'd at least heard her voice, even if they hadn't heard what she was saying. "I…may have found a safe place for us with an old…friend. For now, anyway." She held up a hand to ward off their comments. "Just trust me. But be careful…make sure you stay armed, and wary…there's no telling what will happen when we're there."

She dropped her hand to her side, and winced at the sudden barrage of questions. Not that she could really answer any of them.

_Two weeks ago…_

Sirius Arnold entered the room silently, his feet bare and his eyes narrowed. He had not returned to the ark for almost a month, as he had finished the planning for Cleansweep and organized the last of the Noah's Ark project, but now, finally, he had returned. After the release of the virus, there wasn't anywhere else he could go.

The room he entered was plain, with three grey-green walls and a forth of glass, a large computer panel before it. A thin man with wire-rimmed glasses and wild black hair was seated at the panel, his feet up on the edge, reading a magazine.

"Fernsworth, how is she?" Sirius asked, coming to a stop to peer into the large window.

"Fine. She's taken up kickboxing, actually. And she keeps breaking her dresser. But otherwise…she's fine." Fernsworth glanced up for a moment, shrugged, then went back to his article.

Inside the room Vivica sat on a cushion in the middle of the floor, her pale hands resting on her knees, her legs crossed and her eyes closed. She was beautiful, with long dirty blonde hair, dressed in a pink sundress that contrasted her pale, almost blue skin.

"Move," he said to Fernsworth, who glanced up at him for a second before shrugging and pushing away from the counter, his chair rolling across the small room. Sirius moved a second chair in front of the counter and sat down, reaching out to press the intercom button. "Hello Vivica."

The reaction was immediate, as the girl unfolded from the floor, her eyes opening, a smile appearing on her face. "Father! I did not expect you to return so soon." She crossed to the large window, placing her pale hands on the glass.

"Yes, I know. I believe I shall be around more often, though." He smiled through the glass at her. "How do you feel?"

"I feel wonderful!" The teenage girl placed both her hands against the glass, as though she were trying to find some way to reach Sirius. "The doctor took me for a walk through the gardens yesterday…it was so pretty! I can't wait to see the rest of the world. I've been reading about thing called Old Faithful, and…"

"Yes, yes…I am sure we will be able to go eventually. But how do you _feel?_" He emphasized the last word, and watched as the girl seemed to wilt slightly, taking a step back from the glass.

"Oh…I don't really know. I have not felt any different…that way…since you were here last time. I think I'm stronger though." She glanced over her shoulder, a guilty expression on her face, to study the wreckage of her most recent dresser. "I keep breaking things without meaning to."

Sirius nodded his head. "Do not worry about it, Vivica. We can always replace these things." He reached out and placed his palm flat against the glass. "Just be sure not to hurt yourself."

"Oh, of course father!" The girl stepped back, her hand coming up to press against the glass, and suddenly the window cracked in several places, spiraling out from the young teenager's palm, spider-webbing up to the edges. Sirius took an involuntary step back, staring at the glass. _Hmm…_

"Oh! I…I am sorry, father." Vivica literally jumped back from the shattered glass, staring at her hand. "I did not mean…"

"Do not worry about it, as I said. A window is easily replaced." Sirius forced himself to smile. "I will see you…tomorrow, alright?" He turned away before she could respond, moving towards the door. "Doctor, if I may have a word?"

Out in the hallway, Sirius didn't say anything for nearly a minute, staring at a biohazard symbol that was etched into the wall. Finally, Fernsworth cleared his throat. "Sir?"

"What? Oh…right." Sirius pursed his lips, staring at the door they had just emerged from. "I think she is ready for stage three. Is everything prepared?"

"Stage 3? I…of course, everything is ready but…are you certain, sir? She is still so very…" Fernsworth trailed off, waving his hand vaguely in the air as though searching for the right word.

"Human. She is still so very human. But we shall see how she is after stage three. Besides, even if she remains this way, we must begin to train her. She will be no use to use as a timid little girl." Sirius turned and walked off down the corridor, Fersnworth watching him go.

"Yes'sir." He finally said, and Sirius paused, glancing back.

"And remember, no matter how she looks…she _isn't_ human. Don't ever make that mistake."

"…Of course, sir."


	11. The Sleeper Awakens

_((come on guys, I know you're out there. If you read it, review! I'll take positive and negative reviews…it's just nice to know someone is actually reading.))_

Kingdom Come: The Ashes of Paradise

Chapter 8

"_Action is the antidote to despair."_

_ - Joan Baez_

_Beep … Beep … Beep_

_The beeping was rhythmic…slow, gentle, steady, it soothed the sleeping beast, kept it happy within its sedated world. Everything there was peace, floating, perfect nothing. There was no pain, no anger, it was pure, utter, bliss._

_Beep … Beep … Beep_

"_Wake up." The voice was a sudden, terrible intrusion on the beep, and the creature had to resist the uncontrollable urge to lash out and silence it. "Wake up. It is time to fulfill your purpose. You have survived the rebirth. You must wake up!"_

_The voice stopped…but the beeping did not resume, and the creature shifted in it's bed, restless, searching. The voice had touched something, something almost forgotten, and it was beginning to stir. "Wake up!"_

_It opened it's eyes, staring into the dimly lit darkness of it's home. A tiny room, full of cords and pipes and his single glass and iron bed. Green letters began to appear in the corner of it's eye, reviving long-dormant programming. _

_**Designation – Nemesis Hunter 4. **_

_**Territory – Philadelphia**_

**_Directive: Eradicate survivors. Ensure purification of area. Determine threat level. _**

_**Threat level – STARS 1, Military 2, Local Enforcement 3, Civilians 4.**_

_It reached out and pressed a hand against the glass of its bed, and the front slid away, letting it climb down onto the ground. A case sat by it's feet, and it leaned down to open it, gathering up the armaments left there, carefully hanging each it the appropriate holster. _

"_Good. Remember, fulfill your objective and you will sleep again. Leave nothing behind, and the beeping shall return."_

_It growled a soft acknowledgement to the disembodied voice, and then stalked across the small room, its massive feet thudding like elephants on the stone floor. Against the far wall a panel stood, and the creature reached out, and with grace belying its massive fingers, pressed three buttons quickly. And the ceiling groaned and creaked, disappearing into the wall._

_A single leap drew the beast up into the world, the floor receding behind it to conceal its home. It would return here when the mission was accomplished. _

_A quick scan of the area revealed the creature was in a large, glass-encased building, with a cracked bell resting on an altar just behind it. Outside, the area was almost entirely clear, no carriers, and only a single pair of uninfected people running desperately across the grass._

_Without hesitation, the beast reached back and grabbed the bell by the large wooden brace, hauling it up with one hand and hurling it through the glass. The two figures outside had just enough time to let out a startled scream before the metal slammed into them._

_Two down. The rest would fall, and then it could sleep. _

July 22nd, 2:30 PM

Philadelphia was lost.

It was hard to admit, even harder to deal with, but as Rich slammed on the gas and drove the front of his Navy Jeep into two carriers, sending them splattering to the ground, he had to admit it was true. If a city could be alive _(as many would argue)_ then this city was a body in the last, desperate throws of death. And all they could do was get as many people out before it died completely.

He threw the jeep into third gear and slammed forward, crashing into a pair of zombies that had shuffled out into the street and sending them sprawling and twitching. It wouldn't kill them, he knew, but it was satisfying. Made him feel like he was doing something other than just…searching.

Rich had been in the Navy his entire adult life. Twenty-two years as a ship's mechanic. He'd served on fourteen ships under nine commands, until he'd injured his arm and finally been moved to Captain Kershal's personal staff. When the navy yard was left with a skeleton crew under the Captain, Rich had gone along. A nice, cushy job in his home town, without to much to do beyond maintenance, until he retired. It had been impossible to pass up.

So he'd moved home, got an apartment that had probably burned down, a girlfriend who was probably dead, and a life that he'd been contentedly bored with. A whole three months of peace, and then the world ended. _Figures._

But it didn't matter. They were alive, and they were going to stay alive as long as they could. The small group of survivors at the Navy Yard had spent the last two days finding the things they need, and searching for more survivors. Not many…not nearly as many as they'd hoped. It didn't matter…tomorrow they would stop searching and leave. No one was certain where they would go, but at this point, anywhere was better than here.

So they had sent out patrols, skirting around the center of town in the hopes of finding any survivors who had not been bitten yet. They'd found a few who had…which had felt horrible, telling someone what was going to happen…but at least they seemed to understand when they weren't allowed to come along. Or if they didn't understand, they were so angry they didn't want to come along.

Rich pulled the jeep around a corner, pausing as he studied the street before him. Like every other, it was in shambles…broken cars, small fires, and even the occasional carrier shambling against a wall. It was the same thing he'd seen on every other street he had turned down. He hadn't found a survivor since the night before, and _bang._

_A gunshot?_ He wasn't even sure he had heard it, over the quiet rumble of the jeep, but a few moments later it was joined by a second gunshot, and then a third. Rich started down the street towards the noise, and a moment later a red-headed woman jogged into view from a side-street, a pistol in each hand. She fired off a pair of shots, clipping a carrier in the shoulder and head, and then stopped, looking around as though searching for something.

Halfway down the street, Rich risked the noise and beeped the horn on the Jeep, hoping to make sure the woman wouldn't run away. Almost immediately she spun around, pointing both her weapons at him, and he slammed on the breaks…but she didn't fire, and a grin broke out of her face.

The grin died almost immediately, and as Rich watched the woman turned to face the way she had come, staring out at something…and then sprinted towards his Jeep, waving her hands at him as though telling him to turn around. Behind her, a crowd of the carriers lurched into view, moving much faster than Rich would have given them credit.

He spun the jeep around, narrowly avoiding slamming it into a parked car, and waited just long enough to feel the shift in weight when the woman jumped onto the bumper and into the back before taking off the way he had come.

A pair of gunshots rang out, then a curse as he heard the redhead fall on her rear in the back of the jeep. Firing a pistol was difficult enough standing still, after all. "Don't bother!" He shouted back to her, and spun the jeep around a corner. "They don't follow very long."

Five blocks and five minutes later he pulled the jeep into a large, empty parking lot, bringing it to a halt in the center. It was completely silent now, except for the distant moans of carriers. It seemed they had lost their pursuers.

Rich twisted around to find the redhead sitting with her back against the canvas-covered rear machine gun, trying to catch her breath while she reloaded one of her pistols. And on closer inspection, he found that her shoulder was covered in a slightly bloody bandage. "Are you alright? Have you been bitten?"

"What? Oh…yeah, I'm fine. I wasn't bitten…got attacked by a licker…" She reached up and scratched at the bandage on her shoulder, then shrugged. "A couple days ago, not infected, don't worry about it. I'm Liz…thanks for the save." She grinned, dropping the gun into her lap and holding out her glove-covered hand to shake.

Rich resisted the urge to ask what, exactly, a licker was, and just reached out and shook her hand. "I'm Rich." He stopped when he thought he heard a footstep, glancing out at the streets around the parking lot for a moment.

"Nice to meet you, Rich." Liz slapped the clip back into her gun. "Well…sort of. Not the best time to meet people, really. I was beginning to think the whole city was empty!"

"It almost is. There are a hundred or so of us at the docks, but otherwise…" Rich trailed off, shaking his head. "Where did you come from? I've been searching this area for two hours and haven't seen any trace of people."

"Oh, I'm not from Philly," Liz grinned. "I came here with some other people, looking for survivors. We managed to escape from St. Louis, and came here thinking it was far enough away that the virus wouldn't have traveled, but I guess it did. Or there was an outbreak here, Claire wasn't really sure…" The redhead gave another shrug. "But we figured we should come in and check. There are about fifteen of us here now, I think."

They had come _into_ the city? And there were zombies as far as St. Louis? It was all Rich could do not to collapse back into his seat. They had suspected, when aid hadn't shown up…when no one had shown up…but they hadn't let themselves really believe it yet. So this was happening all over the world…

"Maybe we should…" A blood-curdling scream cut through the air around them suddenly, and they both spun around to stare down the street where it had come. "That's one of those monsters. It must have found someone." Rich said, his voice barely a whisper. "We ran into a couple of them yesterday."

"Well, we should go see if we can help!" Liz said, tucking the pistols into her belt.

Rich wasn't sure that was the best idea in the world…but he wasn't going to look like a coward in front of the woman either. "Alright. Here, there's a mounted machine gun under that blanket…you can use that, I'll drive."

"Right."

July 22nd, 2:47 PM

Leon trailed off as the hunters suddenly screamed, the sound so loud that the cars of the windows closest to them buckled and shattered inward. Their muscles tensed, all three hunching over, ready to spring. Leon braced himself for the strike, half-closing his eyes as he resigned himself to what was coming. "Claire…now! Ru-"

With a screech, the first hunter leapt, its left hand stretched out, massive claws glistening in the afternoon light. Leon raised his weapon, ignoring the fact that he could hear Claire starting to run away. The creature was ten feet away…falling, arm held back…Leon pulled the trigger.

And the hunter disappeared in a hail of bullets.

Leon watched, dumbstruck, as the bloody, bullet riddled corpse hit the ground several feet in front of him, twitching rhythmically. "What the…"

Another round of bullets came, from somewhere behind him, and a second hunter collapsed on the ground, almost as mangled as the first. Perhaps sensing a losing proposition, the third whirled around and leapt into the shadows of a nearby building, then disappeared into an alley. "…hell?"

Leon whirled around just as a battered looking grey and green jeep pulled up behind him. A massive black man was seated in the drivers seat, and standing behind him, wielding one of the largest guns Leon had ever seen, was Liz. "Hey Leon! Look what I found?"

"Huh." Leon wasn't sure what else to say, he just stared at the man and the jeep. Well, at least that meant there were some survivors… "How did you…"

"Find you? I found Rich here, and when we heard that scream…" Liz folded her arms on top of the gun. "Rich said he killed one of the things earlier…we figured it had found something to attack, so we came to help." She shrugged. "You're a lucky son of a bitch, you know that?"

"Yeah, I am…" He was about to say something else when Claire came running back down the street, sliding to a stop next to Leon. "I heard gunshots and…and…" she trailed off, staring at the jeep for a long moment, then twisted around and gave Leon a massive hug. "And don't you ever do something that stupid again." She muttered into his shoulder.

"I don't plan on it." Leon couldn't help but grin, draping his free arm around Claire's waist before turning his attention back to Liz and Rick. "So what's the deal?"

"Apparently there are like, a hundred survivors or something at the Navel yard. We didn't have a lot of time to talk, but it sounds like they're pretty organized. They've got an aircra…" She trailed off as a sudden, collective moan echoed to them from far down the street.

"Oh…yeah. We kinda incited some sort of zombie horde." Claire said, leaning over to peer past the Jeep. "They were chasing us when the hunters attacked."

"Well, then I guess we better go, huh?" Rich said, a grin on his massive face.

"Yeah…that sounds like a plan."

July 22nd, 3:00 PM

Fifteen minutes later the Jeep was parked outside of a small grocery store, and the four survivors were hauling bags of canned goods out and tossing them into the jeep. "Everyone is going to meet at the entrance to the highway where we came down into the city in a couple hours, so we'll have to go there and tell them what is going on." Leon was talking as he tossed another bag into the back.

"Alright. We should be able to get your people to the navy yard for the night, but I'm not sure we'll be able to go back for those people you left at the hospital." Rich tossed the last of his own food into the back and climbed back into the drivers seat. "We might just move further down the coast, maybe send some people out to go around the city…it'll take longer, but it'll probably be a lot –"

The radio on the dashboard suddenly cracked to life, a garbled, slightly panicked voice echoing out of it. "Anyone out there?"

"That sounds like Joseph!" Claire said, hopping into the front seat. Joseph had been a gun owner in St. Louis, and was one of the people who had volunteered to come search Philadelphia for survivors. Claire scooped up the radio. "Joseph, it's Claire, what's going on? Where are you?"

"I'm hiding under the dash of a police car…there's some kind of monster out there." Every crowded around the Jeep, listening to the panicked man's voice. "I had found a couple survivors hiding in an apartment building when this…_thing_ came out of no where and attacked. Never seen anything like it…"

"Joseph, calm down. Are you hurt? What does it look like?" Claire was running through the catalogue of Umbrella created monsters in her head, and she couldn't think of many which would phase the former gun shop owner.

"It's huge! I didn't really get a good look at it, it attacked the others first and…" There was a pause, and an audible intake of breath on the other end of the line. "It looks like a giant person, but the face is screwed up. Dressed in black, and it was carrying a rocket launcher! And…it just…smacked them with it. God, I can still hear it out there."

Claire and Leon exchanged glances, a mirrored frown on their faces, not quite certain what he was describing. "It almost sounds like that thing Jill described from raccoon." Leon said, glancing out at the street.

Claire nodded before turning back to the radio. "Joseph, where are you? We'll come get you."

"I'm…not sure, exactly. I went north from the highway, didn't get very far…ten blocks, maybe? I'm in a police car…it was the first one I saw. It's coming closer!"

"Try to stay quiet, Joseph. We'll be there as soon as we can." Claire put down the radio, glancing over at the others. "We're in the other direction…but the streets were pretty clear, we'll have to hurry!"

"Right." Rich nodded as he threw the Jeep into gear and they took off down the street.

July 22nd, 3:12 PM

The jeep came to a stop next to the cop car, the first one they had seen in this direction, and all Claire hoped out to check it while the others kept a lookout. The street-side door had been ripped off its hinges and was resting on the ground nearby, and the inside appeared to be completely demolished, but there was no sign of Joseph. The driver-side door was left open.

"He's not here," Claire finally said as she stepped back from the police cruiser. "But I don't think he was killed…there's no blood in the car." If there was one thing she had learned, it was that fighting those monsters and zombies left a _lot_ of blood. "He probably tried to run away, out the far door."

"Yeah, but which way did he go?" Liz was standing in the back of the jeep, her hands resting on the hilt of the swivel-gun. "We can't split up, not if that monster is as dangerous as he described."

"Well, maybe he…" Claire was about to offer a complicated argument that he would've run in the direction the door opened because it was faster, when gunshots suddenly sounded from a nearby side-street. All four people turned to stare for a second, before Claire leapt back into the Jeep and Rich took off around the corner.

The side street was littered with police and swat corpses, many holding guns and rifles, and Rich had to stop just before he ran one of them over. In the middle of the street though, was Joseph, leaning against a wrecked S.W.A.T. van, his rifle braced against his side as he fired, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side, covered in blood.

And stalking towards him was a monstrous man, dressed in a blue-black trench coat and lugging a shiny square four-rocket launcher. His skin was brown and wrinkled, his muscled bulged, and his footsteps thudded like elephants on the asphalt. Joseph was firing almost continuously into the beast's chest, and the monster wasn't even slowing down.

"Tyrant!" Claire hissed out, leaping from the Jeep. "Joseph, run to us!" She fired her pistol uselessly at the monster, missing several times but hearing one rewarding fleshy 'thud.' Not that it did anything.

Joseph turned and took one step away from the van, but before he could take a second the monster closed the distance and caught him in his stomach, slamming him bodily against the S.W.A.T. van. Joseph managed to twist around and fire off two shots with his rifle before the beast swung its fist like a hammer, and punched the poor man _through_ the side of the vehicle, where he disappeared inside.

"No!" Liz shouted from the back of the Jeep, opening fire with the swivel-gun. The creature twisted around to face them, taking the shots in the chest and legs…and ignored them, almost like they were insect stings. After a few seconds, and probably two hundred rounds, Liz stopped firing, staring at the creature as it just stood there watching them.

"Claire, get back in the jeep." Leon said, his voice barely a whisper. "That's not just a tyrant, that's the thing Jill talked about. That's a Nemesis!"

"What?" Claire was about to start shooting again, but brought herself up short when Leon spoke to her. She glanced from the creature to him and back…and the motion apparently drew the attention of the creature, as it turned to stare at her, its brown eyes narrowed…as though it were studying her.

_"STARS."_ The word was deep and resonating, like a judge slamming his gavel down, and Claire just stood there staring at the creature. It made no move towards her, it just continued to stare right back, at her and nothing else.

"What does it mean? I'm not in…" She trailed off…she wasn't in STARS, but Chris was…and they had never really figured out how the Nemesis had tracked Jill all over Raccoon. If it did it on a genetic level somehow, then…the fact that she was related to a STARS member could have been throwing it off.

"Claire, get back in the jeep!" Leon leaned out and grabbed the brunette by the arm, hauling her bodily into the Jeep. And the creature started to charge.

"Drive!" Leon yelled, once he was sure that Claire was inside. Liz opened fire, mostly missing as Rich swung the jeep around and took off the way they had come. The creature ran after them, faster than Claire could've dreamed, and was only ten feet away when Liz steadied her aim and unloaded several hundred rounds point-black into the creatures chest and head.

It let out a roar of pain and anger and stumbled backwards, and Rich took the opportunity to swing around another corner and head back out of the center of the city.

_"STARS."_

_The creature stopped running shortly after the jeep was out of sight and stood stock-still, allowing the regenerative properties of it's body to begin forcing the hundreds of bullets out and heal over the injuries. The entire process would take about ten minutes._

_Which gave it time to consider, as loosely as the world could be used, it's current objectives. Encountering a STARS operative was unexpected, it did not quite mesh with the initial instructions the creature had received. But according to threat assessment, a STARS operative was first priority. And judging from the amount of damage the creature had received, the assessment was accurate. _

_Which left the creature with a choice, something it was not accustomed to. Would it hunt down the STARS operative, or continue its trek across the city eradicating the human infestation?_

_Spent bullets began clattering to the asphalt around the beast as they were forced out of its body, the bullet holes healing over, leaving only the various breaks in it's trench coat to indicate they had ever been there at all. _

_"STARS members will attempt to collect civilians." The voice in the back of the creatures head spoke up suddenly. "They will surround themselves with companions if they can. Seeking out STARS will allow the continuation of your objective. Then you can sleep."_

_The creature felt the last of the bullet holes close, and shifted in place, adjusting the rocket launcher over its shoulder. The voice was correct, the creature found no fault in it. It began walking in the direction the jeep had gone, a steady pace, knowing it would never grow tired._

July 22nd, 3:20 PM

The four sat in silence as Rich drove the jeep to the highway where Leon had said they would meet the rest of his team…short one now that Joseph was dead. "What the hell was that?" He finally asked, looking over at the other three people. "You called it a Tyrant?"

"It's…complicated." Claire said softly, staring at her lap. "One of the things Umbrella created is called the Tyrant…it's a big, humanoid war machine, like that thing was. They usually aren't very smart, but…" She trailed off and shrugged. "Some of the newer ones are, I guess."

"A friend of ours was chased through Raccoon City by something like that," Leon said from his seat in the back. "She said it hunted her relentlessly, and could use weapons…she only managed to stop it when she used some experimental umbrella rail-gun against it."

"It's only supposed to hunt STARS members, but I guess it thinks I'm one. But why would Umbrella release it? Why here? They couldn't have known we are here." Claire frowned, trying to keep her hands from shaking by reloading her weapon.

"Well, Joseph said it was attacking him, and the people he had found, so maybe it's just gone rogue?" Liz spoke up, leaning over the gun so they could hear her. "I mean, everything else got released…so maybe they had a spare, or were planning something else, and it got out?"

"Why are you saying Umbrella is causing this?" Rich spoke up, before Leon or Claire could answer. "Umbrella makes painkillers, not zombies."

"…they created the virus that caused this, and pretty much everything else you might've seen in the last few days. Their pharmaceutical business is just a front for their bio-weapons development." Leon sighed. "I can't explain it all now. We need to go pick up the others, and then see about meeting up with your group. If that creature is running around, we're either going to have to give up looking for survivors and leave the city entirely, or find a way to stop it. And I doubt we're going to stumble across an experimental rail-gun here."

_Next time: More Rebecca and Carlos stuff!_


	12. From good to bad

_(( So, come on guys, review! I know people are reading this, they just aren't saying anything. Say something! And to my loyal readers...although I think I may only have one, after that long break...thank you. ))_

Kingdom Come – The Ashes of Paradise

Chapter 9

"_All evils are equal when they are extreme."_

_-__Pierre Corneille_

July 22nd, 6:45 PM

The garage was full of gunfire, the muzzle flashes casting strange shadows on the walls and floor, as Rebecca and Carlos systematically mowed down the zombies that were shambling towards them. The security camera had only shown the doorway to the room, and Rebecca had foolishly assumed that it was as clear as the rest of the lab. Luckily, Carlos had insisted they still be armed when they came down here.

The zombies were dressed in the black Kevlar of a SWAT team, which made it all the harder to put them down, but after a minute or two the last one collapsed to the ground, blood seeping out of a hole just above its left eye. Rebecca and Carlos stopped firing, neither saying a word, just listening to the room…for a break in the stillness that meant more of the carriers were around.

But there was nothing.

"Told you," Carlos finally said, with a bit of a grin, as he dropped the clip out of his rifle and slapped a new one in.

"Yeah, yeah…" Rebecca sighed, holstering her pistol as she looked around the garage. "Why would a SWAT team have been here, anyway? I thought almost everyone had been up in the lobby where they'd killed themselves."

"No idea." Carlos shook his head, walking over towards the zombies, training his rifle on them again until he was sure they weren't getting up again. "Maybe everyone thought that they had already left…or maybe the infection started here too."

"Maybe," Rebecca didn't sound convinced, and she followed Carlos past the zombies, to the front of the van. They came around to the front, and the door suddenly sprung open, a zombie tumbling out towards Carlos.

"Woah!" The Hispanic man leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding being bitten, and the zombie hit the floor, its head smacking against the concrete with a nerve-wrenching crack. It didn't move, but Carlos tilted his rifle down and fired two shots into its head and neck, just to be safe. "I guess they were going somewhere." He said once he had caught his breath.

"Yeah," Rebecca carefully stepped over the corpse and leaned into the cabin of the van, searching amongst the seats. She emerged a moment later, holding a scrap of paper in her left hand. "Here, look at this."

**To: Commander Jackson**

**Something is going wrong. We arrived about an hour ago and were bundled into some new facility…I do not know what is going to happen, but I have a very bad feeling about it. Please, go and retrieve my daughter. We had expected to return before she would have gotten home from school, but I do not believe that is going to happen.**

**Find Anna, Daniel. Please! I have a bad feeling about this.**

**- Samuel Fernando**

Rebecca read through the note twice, then handed it to Carlos. "They were probably infected before they even came down here. They were down here when everyone else was upstairs realizing what had happened…probably getting ready to leave…and they changed." She shook her head.

"Anna's parents weren't here," Carlos pointed out suddenly, a faint smile on his face as he folded the paper up and tucked it in his pocket. "When the outbreak happened, I mean. So they might not be dead."

"Yeah…yeah!" Rebecca couldn't resist the grin that appeared on her face. It was always nice to find some little tidbit of good news, even in a sea of horrible news. "We'll have to tell her when we get back topside.

"Right. Now, where's this truck you were talking about?"

"I'm not sure. The computer said it's down here, but I'm not even sure what it looks like," Rebecca, wary again, pulled her pistol out as she walked around the van and surveyed the garage. There were a number of vehicles scattered throughout the room, some regular cars, others swat vans, and one that seemed to be a large solid black square with a semi-front. "It's probably that thing."

The two made their way next to the vehicle without incident, and Rebecca holstered her pistol, reaching her hand out to run across the side. "Not sure what it's made of…but it has to be the right thing." The back of the vehicle did not seem to have any features at all. It was perfectly black, with smooth sides and no cracks. Rebecca would've sworn it was a large stone with wheels, if it hadn't been attacked to the truck.

She reached into her hip-pouch and tugged out another sheet of paper, unfolding it. "I have an access code, but there doesn't seem to be anywhere to put it. Check the other side." She started over the front of the vehicle and tugged the door open, sliding into the seat. Inside, it would've been a perfectly normal semi, if not for the large computer panel buried into the passenger side dash.

Rebecca slid across the seat into the passenger side and turned on the console, holding up her piece of paper as the system asked for a password. She punched in the code, and a moment later the entire system beeped twice, and the screen was full of buttons.

A quick scan revealed the "Open Seal" section…and Rebecca pursed her lips for a moment, then reached out and tapped the screen. Another beep, a "confirm release" and then nothing. Outside, Rebecca suddenly heard a loud hissing, followed by a shout of surprise from Carlos.

Rebecca yanked out her pistol, shoving the passenger side door open and leaping out, her gun ready to fire at whatever monster had leapt out at her companion…only to find him sprawled out on the floor against the nearby wall, laughing. "What the hell are you doing?"

He took a couple quick breaths and pointed at the black section of the vehicle. The perfectly smooth sides had split down the center and the sides, and the top half was unfolding outwards in both directions, steam hissing out of every various opening. "It startled me."

As the two watched, the back of the vehicle finished opening, the metal sides settling into the floor. The walls of the vehicle were a foot and a half thick of what appeared to be solid metal. In the middle sat a large storage cradle, designed to hold something at least ten feet tall and cylindrical, and two small, round manhole-covered shapes. Monitoring equipment lined the lower half of both walls.

Rebecca stuck her gun back into her holster and walked over next to the truck, peering at the empty cradle. It looked to be about the right size, and judging from the equipment…

"Looks like you were right," Carlos said, coming up behind her, his rifle resting on his shoulder again. "This is a tyrant transport truck."

July 22nd, 7:15 PM

Some quick searching of the garage revealed a massive service elevator that could be used to bring the tyrant containment from the other floor, and the strangely shaped fork-life that would be used to carry it. Rebecca and Carlos piled into the elevator and headed to the tyrant floor. The only sound was the constant, irritated tapping of the toe of Carlos' boot.

Carlos suddenly spun around to face Rebecca, a puzzled expression on his face. "Why do we want to take it with us? We could just kill it, or leave it here."

"If we try to kill it, we might just send it on an instinctual rampage…" Rebecca shook her head. She remembered the proto-tyrant she'd fought in the tunnels beneath Raccoon…and had no desire to repeat the experience. "The paperwork said it was a clean tyrant. No programming, no memories, which means we _might_ be able to study it without any real danger. I can't pass up a chance like that, Carlos."

"We're taking a major risk." He said, frowning. "I'm not sure it's worth it." The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Rebecca started out, then paused just inside the hallway and stuck her foot out to keep the door from closing.

"Well, I am. Besides, you saw that truck…it's designed to keep the creature under control. I don't think it will be too dangerous. And I bet there's a way to blow the truck up, a fail-safe or something, if the creature tries to escape." She shrugged. "It's worth it." She released her foot and turned away, and the elevator doors started to close.

Carlos darted through them and sighed, following after the woman. "Fine. But if you're going to take this risk, I can't tell anyone else to work on it with you. If anyone wants to, they can, but…"

"I know, I know. If the fail safe goes off, I'll blow up alone," Carlos was almost sure Rebecca was going to laugh. "Relax. It'll be fine. Go get the others and we'll see about getting the tyrant down to the vehicle."

July 22nd, 8:30 PM

Anna watched the sun set from her perch on top of Rebecca's RV, her legs folded, drawing absently on a notebook she'd found in the grocery store. One the adults had gotten rid of all the zombies, they'd been allowed to come in and take what they needed or wanted. Anna wasn't sure how comfortable she was about that, but it was pretty obvious they weren't going to be able to pay anyone.

Carlos had come up a little while ago, and told her that they hadn't found any trace of her parents. Which wasn't good, but was certainly far from bad, since if their hadn't been any trace of them in the lab, or in the town, they might not be dead. She suspected that the Hispanic mercenary had been leaving something out, but she had decided not to push. He'd seemed upset about something.

Tandy was asleep, as she seemed to be a lot lately…they hadn't found her parents either, but they both worked in the next town over, so it could have just been that they were…well, dead over there. And sleeping seemed to be the only way the other girl knew how to cope.

So Anna had decided to draw, something that she'd done at school when class had gotten boring, and it was keeping her occupied. She'd probably end up going to watch TV in the trailer…the local cable seemed to be out, but the satellite feed that Rebecca's camper was connected to was still running, even if all the news channels were on emergency feeds.

"Alright, keep her steady!" From the small garage next to the bank, Rebecca's voice could be heard, and Anna looked up in time to see the young scientist backing out of the open garage door, waving both her hands in the air like flags. "A little to the left!"

As Rebecca stepped out into the street, a large black truck backed out after her, the rear blinking and beeping as a handful of warning lights went off. Anna could see Carlos in the driver's seat, half-twisted around as he drove the vehicle. She'd never seen a truck quite like it…it was a trailer, like the MAC trucks she'd seen on the highway, but it was matte black, without any logo's or variations. It also looked like one solid piece of metal, without any doors or windows.

As Carlos backed the truck completely out onto the street, following the shouted directions from Rebecca, Anna closed her notebook and slid down onto the hood of the RV, and then down onto the ground with a little grunt. She tucked her things back into the RV and then ran over to where the truck, Rebecca and Carlos were now stopped. "What's that?"

Rebecca twisted around in surprise, then paused, eyes darting from the child to the truck and back. "It's…sort of a mobile laboratory. We found it down in the lab." She glanced over at Carlos for a moment, shrugging her shoulders.

"Rebecca is going to use it to study what is going on." Carlos came to the rescue, that pleasant grin on his face. "It's a lot better than the one in the camper."

"Oh." Anna turned to look at the black truck, then reached out and ran her hand over the side. It felt perfectly smooth, more like stone than metal…and it wasn't as cold as she had expected. "Can I see it?"

Rebecca frowned and shook her head. "Maybe later. Why don't we eat first, I'm starving." The young woman slipped past Anna and Carlos and started back towards the RV, and Carlos followed after, herding Anna along. The young girl couldn't help but sigh.

'Maybe later' usually meant 'no' in adult-speak.

July 22nd, 11:30 PM

"This could've waited until the morning, you know."

Rebecca rolled her eyes, trying to decide between ignoring Carlos or not, and finally settled for talking without looking up from the panel inside the truck cab. "I can't sleep, and if I figure everything out tonight we can get an earlier start in the morning. Besides, you weren't sleeping either."

"…that's beside the point. I _might_ have fallen asleep soon." Carlos stepped back as the rear of the truck burst open again, steam shooting out in all directions. As the two sides hit the ground with solid 'thuds', a set of lights came to life inside the truck bed.

Sitting inside the center, carefully held inside the containment base, was the Tyrant. Still asleep. Carlos shivered as he looked at the beast. "That thing gives me the willy's."

"Relax. It's not going to wake up and eat you." Rebecca dropped out of the truck cab and made her way around to the back of the truck, where a small set of stairs granted access to the lab and containment area in the center. "Well, I don't think it is, anyway…"

"You're the most unreassuring person _ever_," Carlos stated as he followed her up into the lab. The tyrant containment tube was in the dead center, three feet wide and ten feet deep. On either side was a walkway about two feet wide, and then the various terminals and computer consoles. Behind the tyrant was a flat area with the two manhole-shaped metal cylinders. "Did you ever figure out what those are?" Carlos said, pointing at the Cylinders.

"No…I did, however, find some instructions." Rebecca held out a packet of papers that she had dug up from under the computer panel in the front of the truck. She leaned her hip against a bare space of wall and flipped through the papers quickly, skimming the pages looking for some reference to the manhole-shaped things.

"Here it is," she folded a page over and read silently for several seconds. "They're twin storage containers for a…B.O.W. 122R series." Rebecca frowned for a moment, running the number through her head. It was familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "I think that's a hunter series…"

"You mean those things hold hunters?" Carlos asked, bringing his rifle up to point at them nervously. "Does it have any in there now?"

"Not sure," Rebecca sat the pack of papers down on top of the tyrant tube and twisted around to one of the computer consoles, tapping at a few keys. Several screens flicked into view for a second a piece, and Rebecca shook her head. "The system doesn't say. We could just open one and look…" she twisted back around. "They should be in stasis, just like the tyrant. If there are any, I mean."

Carlos frowned, staring at the small round metal lids, but finally nodded his head. "Alright, open one up."

Rebecca slipped past him, staying out of his line of fire, and tapped several keys on a small panel next to the left circle. After a few moments and several beeps, the console began to rise up, emitting a burst of steam just like the rest of the truck had earlier.

And then from behind them, came a quiet, surprised voice. "This is so _cool!_"

July 22nd, 11:36 PM

Anna awoke to a loud hissing noise and a bright light outside her window, and tried to reach out and close the curtains, but they were several feet to far away. She sighed, standing up and sliding over to the window, about to close the curtains when she saw Carlos and Rebecca outside, standing in the middle of that strange black truck.

Which had opened up like a pair of wings. "Wow."

She grabbed her socks and pulled them on, then ran outside…they couldn't get angry at her if she just went over to look, right? Besides, it was their fault for waking her up in the first place. And there was no way she was going to pass up what was probably her only chance to see the lab at all.

She stepped outside, leaving the RV door open just a crack behind her, uncertain if it was going to lock behind her, and made her way towards the nearby lab. _"You mean those things hold hunters? Does it have any in there now?"_ She could hear the two talking as she snuck up to the side of the truck and peered up the stairs. She'd never visited where her parents worked, but she had seen pictures, and this looked like a tiny version of the labs they had worked in.

She waited until Rebecca and Carlos had turned away, half-listening to them discussing whatever it was…she didn't know what a hunter was, but Carlos sounded afraid of them. Rebecca didn't though, so she wasn't really worried. She quietly stepped up into the lab, looking around. There was a massive tube in the center that she couldn't see into, and computer panels lined all the walls, blinking various status readings and the occasional screen saver. It looked like something out of a spaceship.

"This is so _cool!"_ She said, and then blinked realizing she had spoken out loud, slapping her hands over her face. But the damage was already done, as Rebecca and Carlos spun around to face her.

"Anna! What are you doing here?" Rebecca nearly shouted, taking several steps towards her. "It might not be safe!"

"I…I'm sorry," the young girl took a half-step backwards, slipping her hands before her back. "The light and the noise woke me up and you _did_ say I could see this later, so…so I came out to see." Both adults were staring at her now, and Anna was definitely beginning to wish she'd just gone back to bed. "I'm not going to touch anything.

"That's not the point, Anna!" Rebecca shook her head. "It's dangerous, we have no idea if we might have somehow missed a zombie, and there's-" Rebecca kept talking, but Anna stopped hearing her. Behind Carlos a tube was raising out of the truck, and in the tube was one of the most horrifying creatures Anna had ever seen. It almost looked like a frog, if a frog was humanoid with long, horrible claws. It was held in place by a series of plastic tubing, and it was _blinking_. "Anna, are you _listening_ to me?" Rebecca crouched down in front of her, narrowing her eyes. "You can't just run around and…"

"There's a monster behind you," Anna finally managed to say, pointing over Rebecca's shoulder at the creature.

"What?" Carlos whirled around, just in time to see the hunter lean forward and snap it's plastic restraints around it's right arm like so much twine. "Oh shi-" It swung, hard and fast, and Carlos managed to turn just enough that his face connected with the wrist instead of the claw…and he went twirling over the side of the truck, into the darkness.

"Anna, run." Rebecca pulled out her handgun from its holster, pointing it at the creature as it leaned forward and snapped the bond holding its chest in place. Pinned by just its left arm, it let out a terrible screech, a noise like Anna had never heard, and she felt rooted to the spot. "RUN!"

The gunshots, more than the shout, snapped Anna out of her daze. She saw a bullet smack into the creature's chest, another in its arm, and then twisted around and leapt down the steps, running back towards the RV.

Throughout the caravan, lights were beginning to come on, and Anna could hear footsteps from off in the distance, the night watch running towards the gunshots, most likely.

Behind her, she heard Rebecca scream, and spun around in time to see the young medic tumble backwards down the lab steps, blood coursing down her left arm. She hit the ground and lay still. "Rebecca!" The creature, _Carlos called it a hunter,_ was standing at the top of the steps, blood pouring out of half a dozen gunshot wounds, its breathing heavy and

Anna didn't know what to do, she knew she couldn't help but she couldn't just run away. And the creature just seemed to be staring at her, a view made gruesome by the blood pouring out a hole just above its left eye.

She gave in, twisting around and running, and the air was filled with the terrible screeching again. It was suddenly all around her, and she felt something heavy slam into her back, driving her to the pavement.

She skidded away from the weight, crashing into the front tire of the RV, pain lancing up her chest and shoulder. The creature was right there, a foot away, she could see it through the haze of red. She heard a gun shot, then another, trying desperately to keep her eyes open as the creature stepped towards her…and then everything went black.

_To be continued._


End file.
